Vermillion Nights
by Digital Tempest
Summary: AU. Challenge-fic. Co-leader by day. Vampire hunter by night. Ororo is faced with an ultimatum when Jean's life is on the line. Investigate the recent vampire murders or forfeit Jean's life. Complete.
1. Chapter One

Title: Vermillion Nights   
  
Rating: PG-13/possible R for later chapters  
  
Author: Tempest  
  
Email: mortal_belleza@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters recognizable from "X-Men" or any of its affiliated comics, movies, etc, and I guess that should go without saying that I don't own the comics, movies, so forth and so on either. They are owned by Marvel™ et al. I also don't own the "Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter" series. It is owned by Ms. Laurell K. Hamilton. I'm not using any of her characters, but I'm stealing her plot like a mofo. I also do not own the characters from other fandoms that will be used in this story such as, but not limited to, Street Fighter (owned by Capcom™) and Dead or Alive (owned by Team Ninja/Tecmo™). Basically, if you recognize the characters from somewhere else, then that means I don't own it. If you don't recognize it, hell, I still might not own it. I make no money off these works; this is solely for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement intended.  
  
**Foreword (Important: Read):** Issued as a challenge by a friend, I was supposed to "rewrite" a series using a different fandom while staying true as possible to the series (I can add my own unique twist though). The series I chose to rewrite was the "Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter" and the fandom I chose to rewrite it in was "X-Men". I don't think you have to be familiar with the Anita Blake series to get this fic. A couple of phrases from the series will be used here and there, including the opening line of this chapter. Leave it to me to choose the long, drawn-out series that reads like a soap opera. It will feature a more cynical Storm. Not everything is going to follow movie-verse, so prepare yourself for some differences. Don't like it. Good, don't read it.   
  
Dedication: This one is for Stephanie, Connie, and Nick – my constant sources of inspiration. I also want to dedicate this fic to Domino and Jen, both of whom are quickly becoming my newest inspirations.   
  
*  
  
1.  
  
Mortimer Toynbee was a jerk before he died, and his being dead didn't change that. I trusted the little toad about as far as I could physically throw him, which probably wasn't very far, but I sure as hell could beat the living (or rather dead) shit out of him. I interlaced my fingers together on my desk, avoiding his little, beady eyes. You know what they say about vampires, don't you? Well, I wasn't ready to join the ranks of the undead, yet.   
  
Before he was turned into a vamp, Mortimer was the type of sleaze ball who always knew what was going on in the darkest, dirtiest parts of the city, and he was always willing to sell you that information for a price. Usually, it was to keep his shady ass out of jail. There were many people like Mortimer teeming this city, making him an expendable asset – until he was turned that is. However, he was still willing to give up information for a price. Like I said, the guy was a real scumbag, but now he was an undead scumbag.  
  
I unlocked my fingers, tapping them along my desk impatiently. We'd been sitting here for the last ten minutes, and still Mortimer hadn't managed to tell me what brought about his unexpected visit. "What do you want, Toynbee?" I asked, peering at him for a second from under my eyebrows. He caught me looking, and I quickly directed my eyes elsewhere.   
  
"You're really bloody scared of us, aren't ya?" He asked, and I didn't have to see his face to know that he was gloating at me. Up until now, the little bastard didn't have one up on me.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you, but I am not stupid either." I responded as casually as possible. Truth was, being in such close contact with a vampire did leave me feeling a little disconcerted.   
  
"Say whatever makes ya feel better lady, but we both know I know the truth." He made a loud sniffing sound and I shrugged. How do you argue with someone who can smell your fear?  
  
"I'm not going to ask you again," I said threateningly. "What do you want?"  
  
I was sick of playing these little mind games with him. Just because he got turned didn't make him any smarter; it just made him another dead bloodsucker that I would happily destroy. I think I might've lost myself for a moment because Mortimer said, "You ain't gonna try anything funny, are ya?"  
  
The sky rumbled dangerously outside and I looked at him for only a second, smiling slightly, and his face paled. That was a new one on me; I didn't know vampires could pale. "No, what made you think that?" I asked, dropping my eyes again before he made good use of the situation. If I was destined to get bitten, it definitely wouldn't be by him.  
  
"I'm here to pay ya like any payin' customer. I don't want no trouble." He held his hands up in a sign of a truce.   
  
I snorted incredulously. "What could you possibly want from me? I raise the dead for my money, no pun intended. What would vampire need with a zombie?"   
  
"I ain't here for none of that hoodoo voodoo shit you do. I need ya to investigate some murders."  
  
"The sign on my door does not say Ororo Munroe, private eye." I snapped, sitting back in my chair. "If you want a private investigator, I suggest you go elsewhere, Toynbee."  
  
"I need you. You're the only broad I know who knows everything worth knowing about vampires," he insisted.   
  
"So what? You know, I do have other priorities besides sitting here, listening to you talk out your ass. Could we get to the point of this meeting?" I asked impatiently.  
  
Mortimer leaned on my desk, concentrating on my face. "You heard about them murders in the District, ain't ya?" I nodded. Seems that someone was feeling less than empathetic toward our growing vampire population. They found a couple of vamps decapitated, hearts missing. Quite a mess from what I heard.  
  
"Yeah, I heard about them."   
  
"And you're working with the cops, ain't ya?" He prodded.  
  
I nodded again. "On retainer, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" I wasn't so sure if I was going to like what he was trying to tell me.  
  
"That's why I need you. Those cops don't give a damn about another dead vampire, laws or not." Mortimer said with a fervor I had never heard in his voice. Maybe, some things do change when you die. "Ferguson vs. St. Croix ain't change nothing."  
  
He was speaking about the monumental court case that defined vampirism and what rights should be allowed to the undead. The only thing they couldn't do was vote, and it wouldn't be long before that was changed. "What makes you think I feel any different?"  
  
"Oi, how many bloody times do I have to tell ya that you're good at what you do? What do ya want me to do? Fall at your feet and tell ya you're a goddess?"  
  
"That would be a nice start." I quipped.   
  
"Look, we only want the best in the biz."   
  
"We?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Who's we?"  
  
"Wouldn't ya like to know." He answered with a mischievous smile. "You shouldn't worry ya pretty, little head over that. Just know that you're looking at some real cash. We want ya to look into them murders."  
  
I shook my head. "I already talked to the police about those murders, and don't you ask me to give you the details of that discussion. You know as well as I do that I can't discuss police business with you of all people."  
  
"I told 'im you wouldn't do it, but he told me I gotta try. He's willin' to pay ya three times your standard fee. That blows the money you make raisin' people's dead cats out the water."  
  
Three times my fee. It was tempting, and it explained why I was even in this meeting in the first place. If there was one thing my boss loved, it was money. He probably slept on it. That was beside the point. I had qualms about dealing with vampires, and I didn't make my feelings about them secret. I couldn't just turn down a meeting to hear a potential customer out, but I did have the right the say "hell no", and those were just the words waiting to fall from my lips.  
  
"I'm sorry. I can't help you." I said, trying to maintain my professionalism. Mortimer visibly bristled at this last statement, and fear clutched my throat momentarily. I slid the drawer of my desk open, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. I wrapped my hand around a small, silver gun, shielding it from his view I brought it to my lap.   
  
"Why won't you help us, ya bloody cow!" I guess I made old Mortimer a little angry.  
  
"I'm already working with the police. What more do you want me to do?" I asked nastily. He sat there motionless for a moment, the room completely void of any noise. Then suddenly, he moved quickly, jumping from his chair, extending his hands toward me. I quickly pushed my chair back, holding my gun up, my chest heaving. He tried to grab me; I cannot believe he tried to grab me.  
  
"Nice try, Toynbee. You said I'm the best there is. If you really believed that, then you should've known that little stunt you tried to pull wouldn't work." I said, trying to sound like I was in control of the situation.   
  
"You're right, but you're still human, and there's no way an ordinary human can move so quickly. You reflexes ain't meant to match a vampire's." He said accusingly.   
  
I stood from my chair, still holding the gun at bay. "I think it's time you left. Tell your boss. I'm not interested. I don't work for vampires." I moved toward the door, opening it.  
  
"You'll be sorry. The boss don't take no for an answer." Mortimer said, glancing at me one last time before disappearing out the door. I slammed the door behind him, sinking in the chair he just occupied. It was days like this I wished I was a secretary for a boring law firm. Good thing this was only a weekend job.  
  
Mortimer was right about one thing; I wasn't exactly a "normal" human being. Unlike our ever-growing vampire population, people were a lot less tolerate of what I was. Vampires have been romanticized throughout the years, making it desirable to be one of the undead, but mention the word mutant once in a conversation, and you've got the secret ingredient to instant tension.  
  
Yeah, that's right. I, Ororo Munroe, am a mutant, but you won't hear me saying that aloud on these streets. I didn't want to be the next target of some radical anti-mutant group. Just last week, those bastards tortured and killed a girl who could read minds. The girl was only 15-years-old, and now, her life was over before it had truly begun. Talk about your tough luck.  
  
Few "non-mutants" knew my secret, and since most of my time was spent at Xavier's Institute or animating the dead every now and again, I didn't really feel the need to associate with too many people outside of the team. Who's the team? Well, the X-Men of course. We're a group of mutants who basically try to help others out. The Professor has this idea that humans and mutants can coexist peacefully; they just have to understand that we're really not the enemies.   
  
I believe in the Professor's dream (maybe, foolishly). I believed in it enough to leave behind a village in Africa that revered me as their goddess. I believed in it enough to live in a country that hates people like me with a depthless vehemence, and I hope that one day the Professor's dream does come true.  
  
I couldn't sit around daydreaming any longer; I had to meet a Mrs. Stryker in the cemetery. She wanted me to raise her departed husband because of a slight misunderstanding with his will. From what I understand, it just sounds like Mrs. Stryker got the raw end of the deal, and Mr. Stryker's mistress was set for life. "Don't you just love a happy ending?" I asked aloud sarcastically.  
  
I tucked my gun securely in the waist of my pants, just in case Mortimer was still hanging around. Regular bullets didn't kill vampires, but the cartridges my gun carried were specially made just for people like him. If he couldn't get it through his thick skull that I meant no, then I had a .357 that would show him I meant business.  
  
  
  
The sun was appearing over the horizon when I finally made my way back to the mansion; the sky was an assortment of colors that rivaled the alpenglow of any mountain summit. Usually, I would've been home well before the sun started to rise, but there were some nights that I didn't make it home as early as I wished. I had spent a better part of my night listening to Mrs. Stryker use five-dollar words to criticize her husband's infidelity.   
  
I stumbled into the mansion quietly. Most of the children were still sleep, except for the younger ones who made it a habit to park themselves in front of the television for Saturday morning cartoons. I heard someone rattling around in the kitchen, and when I heard the refrigerator door slam followed by a string of curses, I knew exactly who it was.  
  
"Language, Logan." I said in my best authoritative voice as I paused for a second in the kitchen door, leaning a shoulder against the frame. He grunted as he continued to search through cabinets. I couldn't help letting my eyes wander a little as I admired his bare, sculpted arms and abs and nicely, toned thighs accentuated by a pair of snug jeans. Now, that's how men were supposed to wear jeans, and don't get me started on him in his X-suit.  
  
I wouldn't say I had a "crush" on Logan. I had thought about what it would be like to be with him, but what hot-blooded female didn't? A woman either had to be blind or not into guys if she didn't at least think about him. He was the embodiment of every woman's fantasy of the bad boy. It was just too bad that he was starry-eyed over Jean.   
  
I walked into the kitchen, taking a cup from a cabinet, filling it with water. I sipped from the cup leisurely. "What are you looking for?" I asked, tilting my head a little to get a better view of his butt. I didn't really need to know. I knew exactly what he was looking for – his beer. He wasn't going to find it hidden in the kitchen or anywhere else for that matter. It met with an unfortunate accident while I was feeling particularly merciless before I went to work.  
  
I guess my question sparked a note of suspicion in Logan. He stood up slowly from rummaging in one of the lower cabinets and turned his dark eyes toward me. "It was you, wasn't it? You got rid of all my damn beer. If you didn't do it, you know who did."  
  
A slight smile teased the corner of my lips as I shrugged innocently. "Me? What makes you think I know anything about your missing beer?" I asked, trying to feign innocence. "Maybe it spontaneously combusted." That wasn't exactly a lie. Cases of beer made good target practice.  
  
"Twice in one week? Spontaneously combusted, my ass…" He grumbled trailing off. He finally gave up his quest for the missing beer. Opening the refrigerator, he yanked a carton of orange juice from the fridge and drank from the carton without thought.   
  
I opened my mouth to scold him, but thought better of it. There was no changing Logan, no matter how much we lectured him. I don't think any of us really wanted him to change. It was these so-called bad habits that made him Logan; they were the reasons we liked him. I place my cup in the sink and exited the kitchen.   
  
I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally entered my room. I dragged across the room to my bed, pushing aside the papers on my bed. I had been working with the police after hours on a case dealing with the murders of random vampires. I was known for my vast knowledge in the area of supernatural and occult studies. It was what landed me my job as an animator of the dead, but it's not something I do everyday. I couldn't do it everyday; I'd go crazy.  
  
My first obligation is the X-Men and the school, but right now, I could care less about vampires, murders, or anything else. I just wanted to sleep. I fell into my bed without bothering to take off my clothes, my eyes closing the instant my head the pillow.   
  
Knocking on the door, followed by footsteps, woke me from my sleep. I didn't open my eyes as I felt someone sit on the edge of my bed. "Ororo? Are you woke?" I heard Jean asked.   
  
I opened one eye and looked at her quizzically. "I am now." I answered, sleep still edged my voice. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. I'd been sleep two hours, but it felt like two minutes. I sat up in my bed.  
  
"I know you didn't come in until a little while ago, and I was just wondering if you were still up to tonight." She paused for a moment before asking, "You didn't forget, did you?"  
  
"No, I didn't forget." I lied. "Don't worry. I'll be ready."  
  
I scanned my brain. What was happening tonight? Oh right, one of Jean's friends was taking her out to celebrate Jean's last days as a free woman, and I was going to act as the responsible person of the group. The official bachelorette party wasn't until two days before the wedding. I still couldn't believe my best friend was about to get married.   
  
"And I have one small request," Jean said hesitantly, and I searched Jean's face, looking for a hint of what this "request" might be.   
  
"What's that?"   
  
"Try to have fun tonight, Ororo. I know how you feel about Carmen, but this isn't about her. I want you to relax tonight. You push yourself too hard, and I just want you to have a little fun tonight. Who knows, you could meet someone interesting. Besides," Jean stood up from my bed flashing me a brazen smile, "I'm the bride-to-be, so what I say goes."   
  
I was still stuck at the words "meet someone interesting". Was she insinuating that I needed love in my life? She was, wasn't she? What is it with women and thinking a man will fix everything. I sound bitter, don't I? Really, I'm not. I won't say that I don't have time for romance in my life right now; I just did not have time to devote to looking for the "perfect" lover.   
  
Love was a hard thing to come by in this day in age, especially when you had expectations of the man you were going to give your love too. I wasn't just going to give myself to anybody. I'd been out on dates, but not with anyone who interested me much. They were either power hungry or only concerned with one thing – getting into my goody basket. Catching stars was easier than finding love. Jean didn't know how easy she really had it.   
  
I would go out with them tonight, but I couldn't promise her I'd have fun or "meet someone interesting". I mumbled something unintelligible, and then, I rolled over and fell back into my much deserved sleep.  
  
I dreamed about Logan's snug fitting jeans and butter pecan ice cream. Now, that's what you call a dream. 


	2. Chapter Two

2.  
  
I woke up long before it was time for me to dress for my night out. My body was accustomed to running off little sleep these days, so I always found myself waking up when my body thought I'd had enough sleep. I walked across my room, turning on a light at my desk. I sat before the piles of paper jeering from my desk. I had to finish grading the children's tests, not to mention I needed to look over some paperwork from these recent murders.   
  
I was so involved in organizing the cluttered mess before me that I didn't know that someone was standing in my doorway until I heard a bottle top pop. "I see you found your missing beer." I said to Logan without turning to look at him. I could imagine him in my door, bottle to lips, looking dangerously sexy as usual. I wonder what brought him to up my domicile.  
  
"Actually, I had to go out and buy more to replace the other that mysteriously disappeared." He quipped, and I turned slowly too look at him. He ran his hand through his damp locks. I watched him mesmerized brought the cool liquid to his lips. I always found it sensual the way his lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Then, as if enjoying some forbidden fruit, he pulled the bottle away from his mouth and licked his lips lazily. My knees quivered a little. Thank goodness I was sitting down. I had to stop thinking about him like that.  
  
He walked into the room without being invited, causing the faint scent of Zest to waft through the air. I tried to keep my eyes locked on his face, but that was a hard task when the man made it a habit to walk around shirtless.  
  
He was a distraction, and I was still trying to decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Was there something you needed?" I asked, watching him walk around my room and pick up various trinkets I had decorating my room. When he didn't answer, I turned back to my work. I knew that if Logan wanted to talk, he would eventually speak.  
  
I know he was bothered by this impending marriage between Jean and Scott. Logan and I had talked about that a lot in recent weeks. In fact, we've talked about many things besides Jean and Scott. I think that's why our friendship worked so well. He would complain, and I would listen. I would complain, and he would listen. Sometimes, we would just sit together in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but rather soothing like warm milk before bed.  
  
I wasn't sentient of him again until he was standing right beside my desk. He moved with amazing quietness for a man his size. I chalked it up to his inexplicable background.   
  
His fingers brushed against mine as he picked up an article about the murders in the District. I shivered involuntarily, moving my hand quickly. I could my face getting warm at the thought of him being so near. I was acting like a smitten child. This coming from the woman who earlier claim to have no personal feelings (other than the friendly kind) for Logan. Maybe, I had lied to myself just a little about that. Okay, maybe, I had lied a lot. "This the case you workin' on?" He asked, scrutinizing the article.  
  
"Yeah." I answered, trying to keep my mind focused on these tests. It wasn't working.  
  
I wondered if he knew. I mean, I know he can't read minds or anything like that, but didn't his acute senses allow him to detect fear and desire (among other things)? If he did, he hadn't mentioned it, and for that, I was grateful. I was, however, becoming increasing uncomfortable with his presence. Thoughts of me sweeping the papers off my desk and telling him, "Take me now," teased my thoughts. I know I would never have the nerve to do anything so libidinous, but that didn't mean I didn't think about it. They were called fantasies for a reason.   
  
Finally, when the thought of being drenched in cold showers didn't work, I quickly found something to talk about. "I sometimes wonder if they fit into the Professor's creed for coexistence." I said, trying to push the licentious thoughts out of my mind.   
  
"You know how the Professor is. He believes that everyone can get along if we push our differences aside. I think that would include vampires and all those other night creatures. They're hated just like we are, and the Professor doesn't know any boundaries in kindness when it comes to freaks. He would say that if you looked at the big picture, we really ain't all that different."  
  
That's exactly what I thought he would say, and I had to agree. The Professor believed in compromise. He would not take extreme actions until they were his last resort. I hadn't really talked with the Professor on his thoughts about vampires, werewolves, zombies, etc, but I was sure that he would say something to the effect of what Logan just said. He would point out that our struggle was the same and in some sense could be viewed as mutants. They hadn't been born that way, but something had changed them and made them into something…well… different.  
  
That still didn't quell my dislike for them, and that made me feel somewhat troubled. My dislike for them, especially vampires, was like people's hatred for us. It was wrong, dark, and malicious, and I wondered if this how people felt when they regarded us. Or was it just a congenital hatred for anyone different. I actually had my reasons for disliking vampires, but what was everyone else's reason for hating us?  
  
I looked at Logan who appeared to be deep in thought, and it occurred to me how well he had just articulated himself. I didn't think Logan was a dumb man, but he didn't verbally express himself often. "If I didn't know better, Logan, I'd say you actually do think." I teased.  
  
"Very funny, 'Ro. You should take your act on the road." He said and then tousled my hair like I was one of the kids. I wondered how Logan felt about me. Funny thought, right? He had some sort of feelings for Jean, and here I was wondering how he felt about me. It was obvious how he felt. He saw me as a friend – a confidant. Well, one thing was for sure, he gave me much to think about.  
  
We chatted idly for a few more minutes, and then he left without another word. Strange. I was sure he had something to say, but then again, you never knew what to expect with Logan.  
  
After Logan left, I stretched and made my way toward my bathroom. I dressed in a simple, v-cut white shirt with billowing sleeves, black pants that flared slightly when I emerged from the shower. I pulled my hair up in an uncomplicated upsweep. High maintenance just wasn't my style. In my purse, a 9mm complete with silver-plated bullets was tucked away. Better safe than sorry.   
  
Jean didn't need a babysitter, and she knew that I knew that. She was one of the most levelheaded people I knew, and I know she didn't need me following her around like a mother. She was responsible enough to know when fun was pushing along the borderline of being stupid. She would never admit it, but the real reason Jean wanted me to tag along was because she thought I spent too much time working. She said it worried her to see me throwing myself into work.  
  
"You're going to work yourself into an early grave," she often chided. She was probably right. Most of my time was devoted to the school and to the X-Men, sometimes I worked with the police on paranormal cases, and every other weekend (or however often I was needed) I worked at Animators, Inc raising the dead. Any spare time I had was divided between my plants, my friends, and myself.   
  
I appreciated Jean's concerned, but after a long night of work, I really just wanted to relax in the tub with a good book. Of course, I couldn't say no to my soon-to-be-married best friend. I would endure whatever her friend Carmen Pierce had in mind for us. I really didn't trust Carmen. I couldn't really place my finger on what I didn't like about her.   
  
It could be the fact that she wasn't a mutant, and she didn't know that we were. On the other hand, maybe it was the fact that she was a little too perfect. She was always groomed to perfection. Her makeup and blonde hair was always perfect. Her normally creamy skin was always perfectly tanned. Even her smile was too perfect, and she was one of the capricious people I knew. It could be both reason and then some, but Jean liked her, and I couldn't be too hard on her for Jean's sake.  
  
I walked into the rec room where Jean and Scott sat on the couch. A couple of the children argued over who was going to play what on the Playstation 2, Bobby and Rogue sat in a corner, talking in hushed whispers, and Logan stood nearby pretending to watch Kitty and Jubilee play table tennis, but he was actually watching Jean.   
  
I wasn't jealous of Jean, but I was somewhat envious of all the attention she received. I could count the number of dates I had in the past year on one hand. I guess it was my own doing. After all, I was immersing myself in various projects; I just didn't have time to think about romance. If love was in the stars, it would come.   
  
I sat in a chair not too far from the sofa. "What kind of trouble are you ladies looking to get into?" Scott asked chuckling, but I could hear the underlying apprehension. Scott was a worrier by nature, especially when it came to his fiancée.  
  
"Don't know yet. Carmen just said it was a surprise." Jean said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Scott looked to me, and I only offered him a shrug. I had no idea where we were going either, but I knew I didn't like surprises much, and I had a feeling Carmen was going to give me another reason to be wary of her.  
  
Carmen arrived promptly at 8pm, looking perfect as usual, causing all the guys old enough to care about women to appreciate her assets. "Hello everyone," she said happily. I greeted her with a curt nod. After exchanging pleasantries, Carmen announced we had to get going because it was going to be a long night. I winced at the words "long night".   
  
Carmen and Jean walked ahead of me, giggling like a couple of schoolgirls. "Look out for Jean. I just don't trust Carmen." Scott whispered in my ear before I exited after them. I wanted to tell him that made two of us. I glanced at Logan who nodded at me as if he seconded Scott's thought. They didn't have anything to worry about. Jean was capable of handling herself, and if she wasn't, they knew I would be by her side.   
  
Dinner was actually nice, and Carmen made sure to take us to the most lavish, expensive place in town. "I've got a surprised for you, Jeannie. You're going to love it." She said after her second glass of wine. A Cheshire grin covered her face, and that proverbial feeling of dread balled in the pit of my stomach.  
  
After dinner, I found myself walking with them toward the District. Most people knew it as the playground of our newly liberated vampires. I knew it as trouble, but I bit back my ominous words and continued to follow walk with the two. "I bet you don't know what's right around this corner." Carmen said with a knowing tone.   
  
"Vermillion Nights." I said on cue.   
  
Jean looked from me to Carmen. "What's Vermillion Nights?" She asked with all the innocence of a blushing virgin. I tried not to roll my eyes as Carmen held up a hand to keep me from speaking.   
  
"It's your surprise." Carmen answered.  
  
Just as I thought, I didn't like this surprise. We walked around the corner where a large, neon sign proclaimed we had arrived at our destination. There was a line of anxious women nearly backed to the corner we just rounded. I started to feel a little better when I realized that we might not even get in the place. I started to make my way toward the end of the line. Carmen grabbed my arm, smiling that same disgustingly perfect smile.  
  
"What are you doing? I don't wait in lines." Carmen laughed, putting a hand to her chest.   
  
Jean and I followed her to the front of the line where a bouncer nodded us in. "Have fun, Carmen," he said with a nod. I looked at Carmen incredulously. Vermillion Nights was a pretty hot ticket in this town. Most people didn't just get to waltz into the club, and they could forget about being on a first name basis with the bouncer. What made Carmen any different?  
  
I walked into the club ignoring the sign that announced all weapons holy or not should be left outside the club. There was no way I was about to ditch my gun in a club filled with vampires. It just wasn't happening. Music blared through the speakers, the beat seemingly thumping to my now quickened pulse. I wanted to get Jean out of here before she could be exposed to this type of lifestyle.  
  
"Ororo, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. You just couldn't keep away, could you?" The familiar, harmonious voice washed over me. Vega—the club owner and resident head vamp—stood before us. I tired not to look at him, but even without looking, I could conjure up his face well. I could see long, blonde hair framing an angular face, spilling over his shoulders, the tips of his hair curling a bit. I could envision pouty lips upturned in a mischievous grin.  
  
However, his most astonishing feature had to be his eyes. Hypnotic, seductive, and outlined by lush lashes, I could only describe the color as antifreeze green. He'd once almost captured me with those eyes. Yes, Vega was a handsome man. Tall, lithe, and beautiful beyond comparison, he was the model vampire – if there was such a thing. And he knew it, and I think it was part of what fueled his air of narcissism.   
  
He could also be quite deadly if he chose to be. I'd say he's been roaming the earth at least five centuries. I could tell by the way he moved – or rather didn't move. He possessed that ethereal finesse that younger vampires hadn't yet acquired. I'd even heard rumors that he was around during the Spanish Inquisition, which dated back to 1478 (even earlier).  
  
I looked around his club distastefully. "Vega, you flatter yourself. You obviously don't know me very well if you think I'd actually come to this place by choice."   
  
Carmen raised her eyebrow with obvious interest. "Do you two know each other?" She asked.  
  
"I've been working cases with the police in this area." I explained quickly.  
  
"A vampire expert, I believe they call you." The words rolled off his tongue like warmed honey, his notably Spanish accent adding a certain sensuality to them.  
  
Jean was staring at Vega transfixed, and I elbowed her slightly. "Never look a vampire in the eyes." I said, knowing there was no point in whispering. He would've heard me anyway. Jean ripped her eyes away from his, looking at me with a hint of fear in her eyes.  
  
"I'm hurt to know to know that you think I would hurt someone so beautiful." He said with mock offense in his voice. He grasped Jean's hand between his long, slender fingers, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. I might've gagged if I thought I could get away with it. Jean blushed. He repeated the process with Carmen, and she giggled. I pulled away from him, not wanting him to touch me.  
  
"Don't worry. I am not going to touch you." Vega said promptly as if reading my mind. His voice remained calm and inviting. I almost wanted to look him in the face, in the eyes. "I do, however, have to make sure you're not carrying any weapons."  
  
I grimaced, clutching my purse tightly. "I don't have anything."  
  
"No crosses?"   
  
"You know as well as I do that crosses have to be blessed and backed by faith, and my faith doesn't count." I didn't believe in the Christian God. Therefore, it was completely pointless for me to run around waving crosses in vampires' faces. Lucky them. If it wasn't for that small technicality, more than a few vampires would be in some trouble, including Vega…  
  
"Ororo, is there something on your mind?" That damn voice was going to be the undoing of me. Vega was intrigued by me because unlike most people, I didn't fall for his vampire charms. Every time we ran into each other, he would put the old magic to work, and I would disregard him. So far, I had come out victorious every single time. Let's hope it stays that way.  
  
"You never objected to me carrying anything before." I protested.  
  
"That was business. This is pleasure. Do you really believe all your power resides in that detestable gun resting in your purse?"   
  
I really wanted to hit him with a lightening bolt right then. It wouldn't kill him, but he sure wouldn't be happy while he was healing. I glared angrily at his chest and reached inside my purse, retrieving the gun. A human woman materialized at my side, taking the gun from me, and giving me a claim ticket. Now, let's see him get on my bad side; that gun would be the least of his worries.   
  
I followed Carmen and Jean to a table; the club was seemingly packed wall to wall with women. There was just something about the existence of a vampire strip club that didn't settle well with me, but from the looks of the turnout for this place, I might be one of few. I looked around at the women with the wolfish grins and gleaming eyes, and I realized that I was probably the only woman here who didn't actually want to be here.  
  
Yes, these women were excited about whatever it was that was about to happen here, but there was also that fear. It wasn't the kind of fear that made you want to run away and hide. It was the kind of fear that enchanted you, that made something forbidden desirable. That feeling was thick in the room, making it almost hard to breathe. Even Carmen's face reflected these tumultuous feeling, and poor Jean looked bewildered beyond belief.   
  
_What is this place?_ Jean asked me wordlessly. That was the good thing about being best friends with a telepath. Sometimes, you didn't even have to talk aloud. Maybe, I could convince Jean that we didn't need to be here.  
  
_It's a vampire strip club._ I answered back, and Jean's head snapped toward me, her fiery locks blazing around her face. She searched for sincerity.  
  
_You have got to be kidding._ She responded.  
  
_I'm afraid not. It's not too late to leave, Jean._ We'd probably be better off leaving. I was trying to sound persuasive, but I didn't think it was working as the lights began to dim and soft music began to play.   
  
_No, I want to stick around for a while, and see what's going to happen._ I wanted to blame the alcohol Jean had consumed with Carmen earlier. Perhaps, it had loosened her inhibitions. The alcohol had probably made Jean feel a little freer, but I knew the natural fascination with vampires was what made her want to stay.   
  
Vega's mellow voice pierced the dimness of the room, promising a night we women would never forget. If an ordinary man had said those words, it would've been trite and corny, but when Vega said them, it was like listening to a hedonic prophecy. His voice had the ability to carry you way, to envision him and yourself dancing under the velvety sky, his lips against your neck… My heart thumped hard in my chest, unwittingly bringing me back to reality. I looked around again, noting the captivated look on the women's faces. Even Jean had given in to "the voice".  
  
It almost seemed cultish in a sense, and I was ashamed I had been part of it for a few seconds.   
  
Vega finally announced the first act an impish looking man by the name of Jean-Paul Beaubier sauntered onto the stage. He was dressed in the everyday jeans and t-shirt with a jacket. I analyzed the man carefully as he danced erotically around the stage. He was definitely a younger vampire. He still betrayed signs of living, but even before he'd been turn, this man would've been out of the ordinary.  
  
He was attractive enough with his dark hair and innocent veneer. He seemed almost angelic in a dark way. What made him stand out were his eyebrows and ears – as peculiar as that sounds. His eyebrows had an unusual arch to them; they swept up and away from his eyes at the edges instead of arching up then back down. His ears were also very unusual. Small and pointy, most people would call them elfish. But elves didn't exist? Did they? I wouldn't be surprised if they did.   
  
Off came the jacket. He tossed it to a table where a group of women literally tore at each other's throats to get hands on it. Squeals of delight filled the room as he ripped the shirt from his body, revealing washboard abs. I rolled my eyes when I saw that he was coming down into the audience. I guess it was time to work that vampire charm. He went from table to table gyrating his slender hips for the ladies, even letting many of them touch his chest, arms, abs… whatever they desired.   
  
I crossed my arms when the man approached our table. Carmen stuffed money down the man's pants, eagerly. She hopped from her chair, throwing her arms around him, bringing her lips to his, running her fingers through his dark unruly locks. I had to admit that woman had nerve. When Carmen finally let him go, he turned to Jean and me. Jean started inspecting her nails. If he thought I was going put my hands down his pants, he had another thought coming.   
  
He reached out to touch me and I pushed my chair back quickly, too quickly, just as I had done with Mortimer the night before. A collective gasp rose from the women, and even though I couldn't see Jean-Paul's face, I could tell from his stance that he was surprised. "If you value your existence, I suggest you move along."   
  
Vega materialized at my side, whispering in my ear, "Ororo, what's wrong? Are you not having fun, mi belleza?" His voice rolled over my skin, warming it slightly. Those thoughts about dancing under the star-speckled sky filled my head again, but I fought them valiantly.  
  
"You tell your employees," I strained the word employees for his benefit, "not to touch me, or so help me Goddess, they'll never see another twilight."  
  
"Such harsh words from such a beautiful woman." His lips were close to my ear, the cool breath exuding from his words tickling my lobe like fine mist. "Surely, you cannot mean that. We can fulfill any physical desire you have, and yet, you still hate us."  
  
"Get away from me," my voice didn't sound too commanding, and I'm sure he picked up on the uncertainty in it. He let out a throaty chuckle and disappeared into the shadows.   
  
Jean-Paul was now at the far end of the club, still collecting money from the willing patrons. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Turning my head slowly, I saw another vampire, moving stealthily across the room toward Jean-Paul. Still fairly young, maybe not even a century old, but still skilled in the art of covertness.   
  
Most of the women didn't notice him until he floated by their table. He made his way to Jean-Paul confidently, standing behind the younger vampire, who still wasn't aware of him. Slowly, Jean-Paul turned to face this other vampire, looking into his eyes. This other vampire beckoned Jean-Paul to follow him back to the stage, and he complied. Once on the stage, Jean-Paul stood on the stage seemingly in a trance as the other vampire walked around him, treating him as his prey.  
  
I swallowed hard as the air filled with a sort of urgency, watching this other vampire stand in front of Jean-Paul. He tilted Jean-Paul's face toward him, pressing his body close to Jean-Paul's, bringing his lips close enough to kiss, but instead he spoke to him. I couldn't hear what was being said, and I was guessing it really wasn't too important. Suddenly, the vampire forced Jean-Paul's head back. Fear for what I knew he was about to do washed over me.

I sat there afraid, unmoving, as the older vamp brought his lips to Jean-Paul's throat. "No…" I whispered, watching as he violently latched himself to Jean-Paul. I did not want to see this. It was revolting and sadistic, but these women delighted in it. It was nothing like the dark seduction you always heard about. This was something crueler, and yet, they still reveled in it. This brought to my mind the theory behind sex and violence, how it was supposed to be appealing to our animalistic core.

I ripped my eyes away from the scene before me. This was nothing more than an elaborate game, but all the same, I had been affected by it. I had feared for Jean-Paul; I had gotten caught up in the moment. However, I was only human, and even I wasn't immune to every ruse in the vampire book.

I felt an intense gaze, inspecting me, causing the fine hairs on my neck to stand. I turned around quickly to find Vega standing in the doorway. He tipped a champagne glass—filled with his own brand of red wine—knowingly at me. The bastard had been in my head. If I knew it wouldn't land me on the nightly news, I swear I'd rip this place apart with a tornado.

Vibrating on my hip brought me out of my malevolent thoughts. The police station was paging me. You don't know how pleased I was. 


	3. Chapter Three

3.

I tried to convince Jean that the best thing to do would be for her to come with me. She wouldn't see the actual crime scene, but at least, she would be safe with me. Too bad the feeling wasn't mutual. The display of hunter versus prey had only heightened her interest in the club. It was that whole sex and violence theory coming into play again. She wanted to stay, reminding me that Carmen was with her. She had a point. This was actually supposed to be her night out, not our night out. I was just along to act as supervision.   
  
I prepared to leave the club with a promise that I would return soon. I was trying to put a little faith in Carmen. That probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done, but what else could I do? I wanted Jean to enjoy herself, and if her enjoyment of choice was watching vampires attack each other at a strip club, who was I to ruin the fun? I stopped by the claim booth to retrieve my purse. For a moment, I wished I'd brought a knife as well.   
  
"I almost had you." Vega said with a sly grin before I could exit the club, confirming my fear that he was trying to probe in my head.   
  
There were only two people allowed to pick at my brain, and Vega wasn't one of those people. "Almost isn't good enough, Vega, especially when it comes to me." I called over my shoulder, walking out the club.  
  
"Touché, Ororo." I heard his voice follow me into the night.  
  
An empty coffin and a dead mutant was what greeted me at the Glendale cemetery. I was pulling at the uncomfortable coverall I now donned to protect my clothes as I surveyed the scene. Traces of skin littered the ground around the coffin, but no body. A few feet away were the remains of our dead mutant, and let's just say the term "hollow man" applied to this scene in a literal sense. Someone had cracked this man open like a treasure chest and made off with his organs.  
  
I stooped over his body. His skin was a light brownish-pink color, and he had these odd protrusions in his skins. I saw something that looked like bone trying to emerge from his arms. I swallowed hard and turned away. I didn't know this man, but when he was alive, we had been part of the same struggle. I could only imagine the hardships he endured from day to day.  
  
"They called him Spike. His real name isn't known. He was the caretaker here. The owner employed him because he sympathized with the mutant cause." A gruff voice said behind me. I turned to see Sgt. Bayman staring over my shoulder. "What do you think it was, Munroe?" Sgt. Bayman stood at a powerful six feet. He was hulking man who bragged of a Russian background. He wasn't really into the "supernatural" business, but he still put in his best effort on cases of this caliber.  
  
"Well, you can rule out the anti-mutant groups. Ghouls are what we're looking for." I replied standing again, and then I frowned. "There aren't supposed to be any ghouls in this cemetery."  
  
"And that means...?"  
  
"That means they traveled to this cemetery, and ghouls don't make it a habit to travel anywhere. This cemetery has no ghouls because it's still holy ground. Ghouls resides in graveyards that are very old or have had the holiness siphoned away from it by demonic rituals. Whether they rise or just move in is still up for debate."  
  
"Up for debate, eh? I'm taking that to mean they don't know which it is."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"What exactly are ghouls?" Sgt. Bayman asked.  
  
"Well, there are many theories on that. Some people believe they are the souls of evil people or people who have been attacked by a zombie, vampire, or wereanimal. I don't believe that. I've seen cemeteries where every single corpse in the place was a ghoul. So if we stuck with the theory, they were either all evil, all attacked, or a combination of the two. Honestly, how plausible is that?"  
  
"So basically, origin unknown. Alright, tell me what you do know about them."  
  
"Unlike zombies, ghouls don't rot, and they're not very smart. They operate at animal intelligence, and they travel in packs. They don't work with humans or anything else for that matter. They usually don't attack people because they're fearful in nature. I don't know how that would explain what happened to the corpse. Unless he was already unconscious."  
  
"What about zombies? Don't they crave raw meat?"  
  
"Yeah, but it would take a group of them to do this kind of damage, and zombies not social creatures."  
  
He nodded in understanding. "Ghouls it is then, even if it's not really their cup of tea. Sorry to bother you on your off night. The secretary at Animators, Inc said you were on a bachelorette outing with your engaged friend. I didn't think you had it in you. Our patron saint, Ororo Munroe, partaking in pleasurable activities. Our animator is growing up, guys!" The other officers at the scene aww-ed while Sgt. Bayman wrapped his broad arm around my shoulders.  
  
"I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?" I asked.  
  
"Not if I can help it, and be careful tonight. Don't want you picking up anything."   
  
"You're not worried about me. You just don't want to be stuck on these spooky cases without a real expert." He laughed and gave me a friendly pat on the back, and we said our final goodbyes. If he only knew. I wouldn't exactly call this "outing" pleasurable. So far, the biggest perk of my night had been inspecting a dead body. I shook my head, walking past the hordes of officers.   
  
"Hey 'roro!" I heard a genteel voice with a southern accent call behind me. "If you wanna see a naked man, Ah'll be yo' huckleberry!" Davison and his southern aphorisms never ceased to amuse me. The man had the voice of a refined, southern aristocrat. Other than that voice, there was nothing well-mannered about that man.  
  
"Why don't you save it for the sideshow, Davison? I hear Dr. Phreak is looking for a new attraction. Besides, they don't make drinks stiff enough to handle that face...or anything else I may have to look at." Laughter, choruses of catcalls, and the promise of having willing love slaves trailed after me. I couldn't say my job wasn't interesting.  
  
When I arrived back at the club, Vega was manning the door. The bouncer from earlier was nowhere to be seen. I squared my jaw, holding my head high, preparing to walk past Vega. I didn't want to be involved in any of his small talk. All I wanted was to get Jean and get back the mansion. I was still feeling a little unnerved by the sight of the dead mutant. I knew it didn't even cause ripples in the lives of those officers, but it bothered me to no end.  
  
Cases like that always hit home. The Professor once told me that we sympathize most with what correlates directly to us because it hits a personal note inside of us.   
  
Vega stood unmoving as I approached him. "You smell of blood." His voice was low and cool. It betrayed anger, and I realized he thought I'd been out killing vampires.   
  
"Too bad it isn't yours." I said with a sugary smile. I knew I was pressing my luck. It would only take one blow from Vega to send me to my grave. And they say I don't take chances. What do they know? "Don't worry. I wasn't out killing your kind."  
  
"They talk about you. You're quite a legend in these parts. They call you the Executioner." His voice was mocking now as he emphasized the word executioner. If was as if he were tempting me to make a move, to prove how tough I really was. If he thought I was going to attack him, he was sadly mistaken. I may take chances, but I don't make stupid mistakes.  
  
"They can say anything they want as long as it's just talk."   
  
I moved closer to the entrance, trying to put distance between him and me, but when I started to pass him. He grabbed my arm and asked, "How many of us have you killed?" Vega was definitely an enigma. You never knew what to expect from here, and I hated to admit it, but his erratic behavior scared me just a bit.   
  
I thought he might be trying to scare me, and he should know by now that he had succeeded. But he still held my arm in that firm grip, and I realized that he wanted an answer. Should I lie or tell the truth? He would probably know if I lied. "Enough to know the tricks of the trade." I answered, satisfied with my answer. Truthfully, I had killed fourteen of the bloodsuckers with many, many more in sight.  
  
Vega released my arm. "Did it ever occur to you that vampires are people, Ororo?"  
  
That question brought about thoughts of my earlier conversation of Logan. Yes, it occurred to me that under the law they were people, and maybe, I shouldn't be so judgmental when it came to them. They wanted rights and to be accepted just like mutants, but now, as I looked at Vega's hair glinting in the moonlight, I wouldn't acknowledge those musings. I wasn't ready to give Vega any satisfaction of being partly right.  
  
"I'm not going to debate with you about the status of vampires or any other night creature, so don't waste my fucking time, Vega." I didn't usually use such coarse language unless I wanted to get a point across, and after the words had slipped from my mouth, I suddenly felt foolish. Vega seemed unruffled by my usage of words, and that made me feel even more foolish.  
  
"Of course you won't. I'll cease to be a hindrance to you, now. Please, go in and enjoy the rest of the show. I know I will." Chills slithered up my spine as I entered the club. I turned to ask Vega what he meant with that last statement, but decided better of it when I saw him looking out into the night. For the second time tonight, fear balled tightly in the pit of my stomach, and all I could think about was Jean.   
  
I threw my purse at the claim girl and quickly entered the main room of the club. My heart dropped at what I saw. Jean was standing onstage in a trance. Her face looked youthful under the dim lights, her red hair flaming vibrantly. I didn't know if that was the effect of the lights or what. I looked to our table where Carmen held a shrewd smile, and then I rushed to the stage, hoping I wasn't too late.   
  
I approached the stage without caution. Who gave a damn about caution when my friend was in danger? A vampire appeared out of nowhere. He didn't walk on stage; he just appeared. He was easily the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Everything about him was dark, beautiful, and power. I swallowed hard. They don't make men that handsome. I closed my eyes tightly. No, this was a trick. He was playing with my mind.  
  
"Jean! Jean!" I called to my friend, trying to ignore him. She didn't respond to my voice. The trance was too deep. He could call to her anytime, and she would have to obey his call. He'd fed off not her blood, but her energy. They were psychically connected, and she belonged to him now.   
  
I opened my eyes and then said, "Please... don't..." I knew my begging was useless. What's done is done. If I could take her place, I would. Jean had so much life ahead of her. The vampire whispered in Jean's ear, and her eyes fluttered open.   
  
She let out an audible gasp. "Wh-what's going on?" Jean asked, looking around the stage bewildered.   
  
"We are now bound." The vampire answered. I wanted to cover my ears and deny I ever heard those words, but it was true. Jean looked at him as if he was crazy. She walked off the stage shakily, and I assisted her to her seat.   
  
"I don't feel so well, Ororo." She said as she sat down slowly. Carmen still had that same look, and I had to bite back my angry words. How could she let this happen to Jean? Why had I been stupid and left Jean in this place in the first place? I was supposed to be looking out for her. Instead, I led her right into harm's way.  
  
"Relax, Ororo. The show's only just begun." Carmen said with a snicker, turning to look at the vampire onstage.  
  
Following her gaze, I turned to look at him as well. My heart jumped into my throat. He was looking at me. "Come," he commanded.  
  
"No." I said, but my limbs moved involuntarily as he continued to will for me to come. I tried to fight his summon, but he was too powerful. I felt encompassed in his control, and I knew that I was in trouble. I walked to the stage, standing at the base, gazing up at him as a fan might do at a concert. I was aware of everything that was going on around me, but I was powerless to do anything to stop it.   
  
He reached for my hand, and I willingly gave it too him. He pulled me onto the stage. "My name is Triage," he said with the same Spanish lilt that tinged Vega's speech. "And you are?"  
  
"Ororo," the voice was mine, but I didn't feel like I had truly said it. In fact, I felt like I was watching a movie as I allowed him to lead me to the middle of the stage.  
  
"Ororo, I believe that means beauty. A fitting name for you, my dear." He answered. His voice didn't hold the same appealing cadence as Vega's, but his mind was far stronger. He was willing me to give in to him. Our wills clashed, and it was almost painful to fight him. I was only human after all.   
  
"Don't fight, Ororo." He said.  
  
For a moment, I wondered why should I fight? I should just give in to him. It would be so much easier, but I knew I couldn't. I thought about my friends, the children, my dedication to helping humankind, and I knew I could never let Triage possess me. "No." I whispered, fighting his will with a renewed strength.  
  
"Qué?" Surprised lined his voice, and I wonder if he realized he had slipped into his native tongue.  
  
This made me feel a little more powerful. I had ruffled the composure of one of the older vampires. "No!" I said louder this time, channeling more power. I broke his gaze, and then I looked him in the eyes again. A new strength to fight surged through me. I was still unable to move and still very much afraid, but I was trying to fight.  
  
He moved closer to me, bridging the small space that separated us. He touched my face, cool fingers sliding against my warm skin. He pulled me into a cyclone of dizzying emotions as he caressed my skin, and I was slowly giving in. I could hear my heartbeat screaming in my ears, and then I felt his need -- his hunger.   
  
He was going to bite me. I don't know where the strength to fight back came from, but I found myself pushing ferociously at his chest, falling back and away from him. I scrambled to get away, but he grasped my hair, pulling me back toward him. I screamed loudly.  
  
"Ororo!" Jean yelled with shrill alarm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stand, her fist clenched at her sides. "Let her go!"   
  
"Sit!" Triage commanded, and Jean sat silently without another word. I could hear Triage hissing behind me as he tightened his grip in my hair. He flung me across the stage, and I hit a large speaker box with a thud. I slid to the floor in pain, closing my eyes. I struggled to regain my breath. Goddess, help me.  
  
When I opened my eyes, Triage was standing above me, his fangs exposed, face contorted. He crouched and I brought one foot up, planting it in his stomach, pushing him back with all my might. He stumbled backward, and I rolled over, jumping to my feet. I knew I should've brought that knife. He stood motionless, trying to captivate me again.  
  
"You're not the only one with a few tricks up their sleeve." I said, as I began channel my power. I could feel my now loose hair floating from shoulders as I lifted my hands, accepting the power of the earth. The skies rumbled angrily. He didn't seem taken aback by my display of power. I don't think he truly understood what I was capable of.   
  
"Stop!" Vega's voice commanded, booming through the now quiet club. I turned to look at Vega. Big mistake. Triage took this opportunity to get his hands on me. Vega tried to put himself physically between us, which resulted in Triage striking out at him. They scuffled for a moment, and I heard Vega gasp in pain.  
  
"Ororo!" I heard Jean calling me from the side of the stage. She was waving my gun around madly. It was nice to see her no longer under Triage's spell, but the last thing she needed to do was blow someone's head off. I took the gun from Jean, turning back to the fighting vamps. Triage pushed Vega away from him and then turned back to me.  
  
His face was normal now as he looked from me to the gun. "Would you really shoot me?" He asked, trying to sound charming. I was no longer fooled. I had seen through his façade, and he would never charm me again.   
  
"In a heartbeat." I responded coldly.  
  
"Please, don't shoot anyone, Ororo." Vega said in a cajoling voice. He waved Triage toward the curtain. I followed Triage's retreating figure with the gun. "This was not in the plans." Plans, what plans? I wanted to ask, but I just held my gun up, ready to shoot whatever I felt threatened by -- including Vega. Vega moved toward me slowly. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine." I said, lowering the gun, looking him in those strange, green eyes. I didn't feel anything. No pull, no connection, nothing. It was just like looking in anyone else's eyes. "Put the gun away. You are no longer in danger as long as I am here."   
  
I reluctantly tucked the gun in the waistband of my pants and allowed Vega to lead me behind the curtain. Once we were behind the curtain, he grabbed a man by the arm. "You and the others have to erase this from their mind." The man nodded solemnly. They were going to erase this event from all the women's minds, and it was probably for the best. Not only would it keep Vega's club in business, but it would protect my secret as well.  
  
"You'd better make this good, Vega." I hissed, but I was looking at Triage who seemed oh-so-smug about what happened out there. I should've shot him. In fact, I was still flirting with the idea.  
  
"You're not in control of this situation, Ororo. The cards lie in our hands. If you act foolishly, you will endanger your friend, so you will have to hear me out." Vega said, blocking my view of Triage.  
  
As if being called, I saw Jean being escorted through the backstage area by one of the waiters. She looked at me fearfully. I still don't think she was quite aware of what happened. "Are you okay, Ororo?" She asked, eyeing Vega with disdain.  
  
"I am fine, Jean."  
  
"I want to go home." Jean said, looking around, as if she suddenly realized the place was evil.  
  
"We'll be leaving soon, Jean. I promise." I said to her. I turned to Vega and said. "I don't want Jean to be involved in whatever it is you're going to tell me. I don't even want her to hear this conversation."  
  
"I think she should hear it since she is now involved." Triage said laughing.  
  
"No!" I said, my voice reverberating throughout the backstage. "I want her out of this. Haven't you already done enough?"  
  
"What is he talking about? What are you talking about?" Jean asked. She placed her hands on her hips. She was getting angry, not that I blamed her.  
  
"There's only one thing that can be done." Vega shrugged.  
  
"Do it." I said.  
  
"We're leaving." She grabbed my hand and spun around, but Triage spun her back around and she looked at him. Jean's lips pursed as she readied herself to blast him with heated words, but fell silent when she looked in his eyes. She tightened her grip on my hand, and I shook my head sadly. She was fighting him with everything she had, but it wasn't good enough.   
  
She dropped my hand and stared vacantly at the wall. He wiped her mind of what happened, just as the others were doing to the women out there. I wish they could wipe away what happened to Jean as well, but that wasn't as simple. The only way Jean would ever be free again is if Triage was killed, and I didn't think I had the strength to do it.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked.  
  
"I believe Mr. Toynbee has already told you what we want." Vega answered.   
  
"And I refused. But you just couldn't be happy with that, could you? You had to go and put someone I loved in it? You could've done a lot of things before you did this." I said coolly.  
  
"Time is a commodity we do not have much of. We did not have time for persuasion tactics. Now," Vega said, waving toward Jean, "we know that you will help us."  
  
What I wanted to do was help them both die. Bastards. "Well, you've just hired yourself an animator."  
  
"I think we all know you're more than just an animator." Vega said with a wily smile. I knew he was referring to the episode earlier where I'd almost used my powers against Triage. "Your friend will not be harmed if you help us. I'll expect to see you here tomorrow night at midnight."  
  
"I'm supposed to trust you and Don Juan over there to your word? I am not stupid."  
  
"What other choice do you have?"  
  
He was right. Damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I didn't like those odds, but I had to keep pushing my luck. "I want guarantees from his master." I said, pointing at Triage.  
  
"I have no master." Triage answered, sounding slightly miffed.  
  
"Are you kidding? I know you're older than Vega. I can tell from the way you move and act, but unlike Vega, you are not your own master." I said. "If you were your own master, I would've already been dead by your hands."  
  
"There's no sense in trying to argue with her, Triage. She knows." Vega said. "I think your simple request can be granted, Ororo."   
  
Carmen appeared behind the curtains then, and I smiled at her brilliantly. She looked uncertain. She had been a key player in this deception. She lured us here for this to happen. Oh, how I wanted to make her feel the pain I was feeling right now. "Hello, Carmen. Glad you could join the party." I said, walking toward her.  
  
"You can't harm her. She's under our protection." Vega said softly.  
  
"Is that right? So, I can't play with the vampires' whore today. That's fine." I shot back keeping my eyes on her.  
  
My emotions threatened to war inside of me. I wanted to unleash all my fury on Carmen, but I had to control myself. I looked Carmen in her eyes and she smirked at me triumphantly. "I guess this is where the threat to kill me comes in. Well, save it, darling. I'll only come back as one of them."  
  
My radiant smile continued to cover my face, her own smile sliding from her face as she watched my eyes cloud over. "If anything happens to Jean, there'll be no coming back from what I'm going to do to you." Thunder punctuated my sentence with a vociferous roar causing Carmen to jump. I blinked once. "Are we clear?"  
  
"Crystal," she whispered. I could see her pale under that tan, and she quickly backed away from me.  
  
Vega and Triage accompanied Jean and me outside. I hailed a cab, allowing Jean to slide in first. The poor girl looked like the living dead (no pun intended). Vega grabbed my hand before I got into the cab. I knew I should've snatched my hand away from his. I didn't like vampires touching me. He rubbed thumb across my skin, and I got the feeling he was trying to be seductive.   
  
When he spoke his words came out with a note of regret, and here I was thinking vampires had no ethics. "Remember, Ororo. You must meet us here tomorrow night, or I can't promise your red-haired friend will see another sunrise. No weapons."   
  
Now, that was incentive enough to come back. I nodded and pulled my hand away from his and slid into the cab beside Jean. I couldn't help looking back as we pulled away from the club. If I were a lesser woman, I would've given them one-finger salute, but that would've been childish (and possibly dangerous).  
  
"I'm so tired, Ororo." Jean mumbled, and I allowed her to rest her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair lovingly, my heart nearly breaking as the realization of what happened really begin to sink in. "So tired..." What was I supposed to do now? I should have never left her at that club with that... "Bitch." Jean finished for me.   
  
She was reading my mind even in her tired state. I must have been giving off some serious negative vibes at that moment. "Jean, please, don't read my mind. Not now." I pleaded. Not now, anytime but now. I didn't need her finding out what really happened to her, and I didn't want her to feel how afraid I really was.   
  
I should've made Jean come with me to the crime scene. She would've been angry, but she would've been safe as well. This was my worse fear. I would've felt better if he had just turned her. I know that sounds twisted, but she was just a puppet now. She would continue to live her life normally, but she was now at the beck of Triage. He could call her, and she would be helpless to his call. She was now Triage's possession. It was unfair that she wouldn't even remember becoming a vampire's new plaything.   
  
Vampires just kept giving me reasons to hate them.  
  
Soft snoring came from my side. She was sleep. How was I supposed to explain this to Scott of all people? Jean would vaguely remember what happened tonight, and I would be the one filling in the blanks for him. Scott and his insufferable questions, the thought was enough to make me not want to go back to the mansion. I knew I wouldn't tell him what happened tonight, and I would feel awful keeping such pertinent information from him. However, what other choice did I have? I couldn't tell him that I left his fiancée at a vampire club, and that she was now the property of an age-old vampire.   
  
"Don't worry, Jean." I whispered. "I'll get us out of this."  
  
And I would.


	4. Chapter Four

4.

I barely touched anything on my plate the next morning at breakfast. Everyone else chatted over their breakfast like a couple of old college buddies while I stared at my hands. I knew it was the worst thing I could do, but I was worried. There, I admitted it. Even if I tried to eat or interact for appearances sake, it would have been strained and insincere. They seemed oblivious to my dire mood, even though it was storming outside and the weatherman had predicted a clear, sunny day.   
  
The professor was out with an acquaintance for breakfast, and I was very appreciative of that small miracle. He would've noticed my mood before I even entered the dining area, and right now, I didn't want to be noticed, even though I wasn't eating or talking. Instead, I studied Jean – just as everyone else did. Her table manners were… lacking this morning.  
  
Jean's appetite was voracious; she was currently working on her third plate. Her eating was the current attraction of the breakfast table. Logan sat transfixed watching Jean shovel spoonfuls of food into her mouth. I think he was astonished that someone else was actually eating more than him for a change… or maybe it was the fact that his beautiful Jean was shoving food down her throat like a hungry bear. I hadn't figured out which, yet.   
  
Unbeknownst to Jean or anyone else in the room, she was trying to replenish her energy. People developed large appetites or an unquenchable thirst when they had been fed on (physically or psychically). This could last a couple of hours or even a couple of days depending on how much energy (or blood for the victim who's been bitten) was taken. Victims also seemed very lethargic after being a vampire's snack. Jean would probably go back to sleep once she felt full.   
  
"You ladies must've really had a wild night." Scott said smiling as Jean drank a full cup of orange juice without taking a breath. She slammed the cup against the table as if she had just won a drinking contest. I didn't know whether I should applaud or be amused. Who knew Jean could take orange juice to the head like that?   
  
Scott looked expectantly from Jean to me. He expected one of us to start talking. "We had a nice time." I lied without much emotion, hoping to sedate the curiosity. What was I supposed to say? 'Yes Scott, I let a vampire take a little of your girlfriend's energy, and now, she's probably doomed if I can't find a way to save her. Could you please pass the coffee?' I don't think so.   
  
"Yes, it was fun." Jean said through bites of toast. "We had dinner at that nice, Italian restaurant downtown, and then we went… to a club…" Jean furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember the details.   
  
"What was the name of the club?" Scott asked. Why did we always have to get into specifics with Scott? Couldn't he just be happy with Jean's answer?   
  
"I… I don't remember…" She looked to me helplessly.  
  
"American Pie," I answered quickly, saying the first thing that came to mind. I couldn't tell them we went to Vermillion Nights even if it wasn't my idea. That would bring about more questions, and I just didn't know if I could continue to find lies to fill in the blanks, and once you tell a lie, you had to remember what lie you told when and to whom.   
  
Jean frowned, trying to remember. I knew she would never be able to recall the club's name or what happened there. "Oh right, and Ororo bumped into an old friend while we were there," she said with a hint of mischief glittering in her eyes like diamonds. "He was the most intriguing man with a strange shade of green eyes and a Spanish accent. Isn't that right, Ororo?"  
  
She wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I fought the urge to cover my face. Someone hadn't done their job effectively enough, or maybe more persuasion was needed with Jean because of her powers. The effects of vampirical persuasion on telepaths – that would make an interesting study, but I digress. Jean had forgotten all the major details, but she remembered some of the finer ones.   
  
"I wouldn't really say he was a friend. He was more like an associate." I mumbled, looking down at my hands again.   
  
"I didn't need to read your mind to see there was something there." Jean teased. I was starting to think something more than a little energy had been taken from Jean such as some of her common sense. I glanced around the table. All eyes were focused on me. Thanks a lot, Jean. I guess my dull love life was more interesting than our night out.   
  
"Anyone we know?" Logan probed, and I shot daggers at him with my eyes. Couldn't he see… couldn't they see that I didn't want to talk about it?   
  
"No. He is just a person I know from working on police cases." That was not a lie. I hope Jean wasn't snooping around in my head right now because my thoughts were rushing out like water through a broken dam.   
  
"So, when do we get to meet Prince Charmin'?" Logan asked, staring intently at my face. If I didn't know better, I'd say that his expression betrayed a little envy, but I did know better.   
  
I snorted at the thought of bringing Vega home to meet them. I could just see myself introducing him as my new undead boyfriend. Wouldn't that give them something to talk about? She would never have to worry about that because that was never going to happen.  
  
"He's no Prince Charming, and you're not going to meet him because there is nothing going on between us. Truthfully, I cannot stand the guy." I said pointedly at Jean.   
  
"No Prince Charming? Are you kidding? If I wasn't head over heels in love with Scott…" Jean's eyes darted over to Scott nervously as her sentence trailed off. "I mean he didn't seem like such a bad guy."  
  
She wouldn't be saying that if she could remember what happened to her. She would probably be cursing Vega's name right about now. I knew what she was going to say next. She said it every time I mentioned a guy. She was going to say, "He might add some spice to your life".  
  
"Besides, he might add some spice to your life." Jean said eyeing Scott's bacon. She was right on cue.  
  
"I don't need his kind of spice in my life." This was quickly becoming an uncomfortable topic. I pushed my vegetarian omelet across the table. "Here, you can have this. I'm not very hungry this morning." I wanted her to stuff her face, so she would stop talking about Vega. She took it grateful and then she took Scott's bacon and crumbled it over the omelet.  
  
The conversation was then steered down a different path as Scott mentioned a mutant teen they had searched for the night before. There had been a couple of occurrences with empty buildings blowing up, and apparently, this kid had something to do with it. They were hoping to reach him before Magneto did – if he hadn't already reached him.   
  
Poor kid. No, I really meant that. I'm sure some of the children we approached probably feel overwhelmed by the information we feed them. It's tough enough being a child, not to mention being a mutant child. And then to hear a bunch of grownups trying to tell you that their philosophy is right probably doesn't make things much easier.  
  
Not too long after breakfast, I escaped to my greenhouse, hoping that I wouldn't be bothered for the rest of the day. The soft sounds of Mozart filled the greenhouse as I worked patiently on my flowers. Despite the rain, which was now at a drizzle, some of the older children had gone to the mall. Jean and Scott took the younger children to see a movie. I vaguely remember "Finding Nemo" being mentioned as they walked out the door. Jean seemed okay before she left. She looked a little tired, but not tired enough to keep her down.   
  
The Professor was still out, and Logan would probably find something to occupy his time. With the grounds being near empty, I was sure to find the peace I was looking for. I needed time alone to think. I had to think of a way to get Jean out of this bind. I didn't trust Triage at all, and I didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning and find Jean completely turned or worse. The only way I knew to free Jean was by killing Triage. I didn't know if I had the power or the expertise to kill a vampire that strong.  
  
"What really happened last night 'Ro?" I heard Logan asked behind me. I jumped slightly, turning to face him. I hadn't expected him to come sniffing me out.  
  
"Logan, you startled me." I answered, turning away from him again.  
  
"That doesn't answer my question."  
  
I paused for a moment, remembering the events of the night before and my promise to return to the club tonight. "Nothing, we went out to dinner and then we went to a club just like Jean said…"  
  
Logan grabbed my arm, turning me to face him. I didn't look him in the eyes. I couldn't. "Cut the bullshit. I may not be all prim and proper like Scott or the Professor, but I ain't stupid neither. I know you've been actin' funny all day, and I wanna know why. Did this friend Jean mentioned at breakfast have somethin' to do with it?"  
  
I wanted to confide in Logan, to tell him everything, but I knew doing so could be dangerous. "No, there is nothing wrong, my friend. Nothing I cannot handle on my own anyway." I said with more feeling. I patted his arm in a friendly manner. I hated being so vague with my friends, but I couldn't get any more people involved in this confusion. I had promised that one thing myself. I would never get my friends caught up in my other dealings.   
  
Logan gripped my chin firmly, making me look in his eyes. His eyes were stern, yet concern. The skin between his brows puckered as his frown deepened. "Somethin' ain't right. I'm your friend, 'Ro. You can trust me." He insisted.  
  
I finally relented a little. "You're right, Logan. Something did go wrong last night, and now, I have to fix it. That's all I can tell you. I cannot let you or the others get involved in this. I have to do this on my own. I know you of all people should understand that the best."   
  
Logan nodded solemnly. He had been taking short leaves from the team to try to rediscover a past he'd long forgotten. Our plights were different, but it was still something that we needed to do on our own. "Don't try to be a hero. If this is somethin' we can help you with, don't be too goddamn stubborn to ask. Don't go doin' somethin' stupid." He searched my eyes for answers, but I wasn't giving him any. I knew my response to his question probably worried him, and I was deeply moved by his concern.   
  
"No heroics here. I'm just doing what I have to do." I replied.   
  
"Is there anything I can do?" Logan asked.  
  
I shook my head. "No, there is nothing. Come, let's go back to the mansion." I said trying to sound more upbeat. I linked arms with Logan, talking about whatever popped in my mind – the weather, classes, my cases. I didn't want him to worry about me. A morbid thought crossed my mind as we entered the mansion. Maybe, I should tell Logan how I feel about him, just in case I don't make it back alive tonight. I quickly dismissed the thought. I wasn't planning to check out tonight, and lust doesn't count as genuine feelings for someone.  
  
I spent the rest of my day grading tests and preparing notes for tomorrow's classes. I called my boss at Animators, Inc and told him that I wouldn't be coming in; then, I told our secretary to tell anyone that calls for me that I out working. I had to cover my bases. I left the mansion around 6:30pm, the normal time I left for work. I borrowed Scott's car and rode around the city wasting time until I knew it was time to go to Vermillion Nights.   
  
Once I parked the car, I sat in Scott's car for a moment staring up at the stars. I normally loved gazing up at the stars, but tonight they didn't seem very friendly as I looked up at them for comfort. I needed their strength, but they had none to offer me tonight. I sighed as I got out the car, turning to look at the glowing neon light ahead of me. I could see Vega standing in front of the club. He was nothing more than a shadow from where I was standing. Triage was nowhere in sight, and this might have been an intentional on his part.  
  
I walked toward Vega, not speaking. "Walk with me, Ororo." Vega said as I neared him. Vega held out a hand. I looked at the outstretched hand and then back at him. I was not about to hold hands with a vampire. What did this look like? A damn peace rally? "Take my hand. Pretend that you are a human with her vampire paramour. If the police pass by, it will explain everything they need to know in their minds."  
  
I was going to regret this. I looked at his hand again and put my hand in his own. Our fingers locked, and I could feel my pulse racing. Was I afraid? No, I didn't fear him at this moment. I could also feel his pulse throbbing under my fingers; it was speeding to catch my own. "Where is Triage?" I asked.  
  
"He's with the master, and that is where I am taking you. I have to ask you not to insult Triage. He does not like you, and it would be his pleasure to kill you. I will not die defending you."  
  
"Nobody asked you to." I countered, and he let out a throaty chuckle. I didn't want him feeling obliged to protect me from anything. I'd lived my whole life without his protection, and I certainly didn't need it now.   
  
"What is your ability?" He asked suddenly changing the subject. That was Vega for you.   
  
"My ability?" I knew what he was talking about, but I did not want to get into a conversation about my mutant powers with a vampire, especially a vampire I may eventually use them against.  
  
"You don't have to pretend. I was almost tempted to let you and Triage fight, just to see what you could do, but since I did not allow that, you will have to inform me."  
  
"I have the ability to control the weather. Whatever I will it to do, it obeys."  
  
"Could you have blown up Triage with one lightening bolt?" He sounded amused as he asked this question.  
  
"Perhaps, but that would have required me to build a large amount of power that I cannot."  
  
"You cannot or you will not?"  
  
"I will not." I answered simply. He nodded as if he understood that I had to have limitations on my powers. A part of me believed that he did, but how probable was that?   
  
We continued to walk the dusky street hand-in-hand. It would have been a pleasant walk – given the circumstances. I concentrated on matching his gait while he talked about nothing in particular. He walked with his shoulders straight and head held high as if he owned the universe. Every now and then, he would rake his free hand through his hair. She wondered if he'd always been that confident or if it had come with the vampire package.   
  
A police car peeked from a corner as it crept down the street, using a spotlight to pierce the darkness. I tensed, and Vega pulled me against him, turning me away from the lights, pushing me against a wall. I braced my hands against his chest, pushing away from him. "Don't fight. You'll bring their attention. Think about your friend." I didn't move my hands, but I stopped pushing as he wrapped one arm around me. Vega tilted my face toward his own.  
  
"No! I will not look in your eyes." I said with urgency.  
  
"I won't try anything. I promise, just look at me." I reluctantly looked into his eyes. Dark pools of mesmerizing green stared back at me, but they were empty, just as they had been at the club the night before. "Trust me."   
  
What could I do besides trust him? I didn't want the police to stop and question us. I could feel myself shaking a bit as he ran his hand through my hair. He gently cradled the back of my neck, and I could feel the beat of his pulse against my skin. No, that wasn't right. I could feel his pulse throbbing through me. Our pulses beat in unison. It was as if we were working as one person. We stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Desire swirled around us like a mist. This was not supposed to be happening.  
  
A soft rain began to fall against us, caressing us like a lover's touch. He looked up at the midnight sky. "Is this your doing Ororo?" He asked softly. I wasn't really sure. I know that sounds ridiculous. The sudden shower could have been a reflection of what I was feeling at that moment, or it could have simply been mother's nature own doing. Droplets rolled from his silken hair like small diamonds. Fascinated, I touched one tendril that was beginning to curl. One of the droplets rolled from his hair into my hand, pooling in the palm of my hand.  
  
He covered my hand with his own, bringing my hand to his lips for a sensuous kiss. "Kiss me." I said before I could swallow the words, and he obliged. He kissed my forehead, my jaw, and my neck. His lips lingered longer than I would've liked on my neck, and I felt his tongue lap at a pulse point. I tensed, fearful that he might bite me, but at the same time, I offered more to him, savoring the delicious feel against my neck. He pulled away from my neck. Bringing my face close to his, our lips met.   
  
The kiss was excruciatingly slow, but tantalizing. The taste of him was as sweet as honey. His lips were nothing more than a soft whisper on my lips. His hands were cradling my neck again, our pulses still beating as one, and his touch had somehow touched my soul. I pushed my body closer to his, crushing my lips against his own as the kiss deepened, tongues touching slightly. I tried to remind myself how this was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't break the kiss that was now on borderline ferocious.   
  
To give in to him would mean losing the battle to him. A voice somewhere whispered and I pushed it into the dark corners of my mind. As if hearing my inner voice, he pulled back abruptly, speaking rapidly in Spanish. He pressed my head against his chest. I was trembling… Correction, he was trembling. I could see the police car was long gone, and I wondered how long we'd actually been standing there. The police car had been the last thing on my mind, but I'm sure they got quite the show.   
  
Then, I felt it—his blood hunger—and it scared me. I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was concrete. "Be still." He commanded. We stood there for a moment, and then he sighed deeply, releasing me. He pointed to a rundown looking hotel ahead. "The master's place is just ahead."  
  
I wiped at the front of my clothes as if they wrinkled, not looking at him. He started to walk ahead of me. "Was that really necessary? I think you were overreacting." I finally said when the words would come.  
  
"You were not complaining when it was happening." He said brusquely, still walking quickly toward the hotel. I had to trot to catch up with his quick stride. He hadn't said much, but I could feel the coldness radiating from him. It was the kind of chilliness that you could shape with your hands, much like those ice missiles Bobby was learning to throw.   
  
I wondered if he was actually angry with me or if he was disappointed in his own reaction. "It's hard to complain when you're being assaulted by lips." I complained under my breath, forgetting that he could hear me no matter how low I spoke.  
  
"Assaulted?" He snorted. He stopped and turned toward me. "I assure you, Ororo, if I wanted to assault you, it would be with more than a kiss."  
  
I held back a sarcastic comment. Now was not the time to piss off Vega. I followed him into the hotel, pass a sleeping clerk. I couldn't believe this place was still open. I don't believe the rats would even live in this dump. I followed Vega into a room. Triage was stalking the floors and a woman sat primly on the bed. Vega closed the door softly, and I positioned myself against the nearest wall where I could see all three of them. The woman's hair was void of any color, just like mine, but a silver undertone made her hair shine eerily.   
  
"Well?" I said crossing my arms. "Where is the master?"  
  
"I'm the master." The woman said, her voice held an accent, which was distinctly British. She stood from the bed. She was very tall and slender and when she moved toward me, she moved with a snakelike glace.   
  
I looked at her wide-eyed for a moment and then laughed sardonically. "You're not the master."  
  
"I am the master." She insisted.  
  
I looked at Vega. "She's not Triage's master. Is this some kind of joke? She can't be more than 200 years old, give or take a couple of years. She even still moves with a liveliness associated with the newly dead."   
  
The woman gasped – an indicator that I had guessed right. "Vega? Did you tell her? You had to tell her. There's no way she could've known." The woman hissed.   
  
"I tried to tell you and Triage there was something different about her. I told you this would not work with her, Christie, and you still refused to believe. She knows. How? I don't know, but she knows."  
  
Did they all forget I was standing there? They were talking about me as if I couldn't hear them. "I want to see your master." I demanded. If there had been a desk around, this would be the part where I slam my fists on the desk like a prosecutor. "I came here to get guarantees that my friend would be safe from that killer B movie vampire over there, and instead I get games."  
  
The female vampire, Christie, looked at me with a half-amused grin. "You really are a foolish one, aren't you mortal? How did you know that I wasn't the master?"  
  
"You don't feel old enough, and you don't have half the power old Triage over there has. Now, I want to see your master before people start dying in here, and trust me, it will not be me who's going to do the dying." Talk about losing my cool. I couldn't believe I just said that in a small room surrounded by three vampires.   
  
Before I could react, Triage crossed the room. He grabbed my shoulders roughly and drove me back into a wall. Searing pain rushed through my skull as it made full contact with the wall, and I felt my knees give under me. Then, everything went black.


	5. Chapter Five

5.

While I was unconscious, I dreamed I was back in Africa, back in my village where my people loved and adored me. Free. I was no longer tied down by the oppressive realities of America. America was only a distant reverie in my dreams – a land that no longer listened to its native rhythms, but survived on the constant bustle of everyday life. I savored the feel of the zephyr on my face as I rode the winds in my natural glory. How I wanted that more than anything, but as I said, it was only a dream. At least, I was alive. Dead people don't dream. At least, I didn't think they did, so that had to mean I wasn't dead.   
  
Garbled voices drifted throughout my head, causing the pain to intensify; nausea was starting to attack me in violent waves. Memories of the events of the night flooded into my head, seemingly adding to the already blinding pain. The walk, the kiss, Triage attacking me, it all came back to me with a glaring clarity. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted this pain to subside. Feet shuffled toward me.   
  
"Open your eyes, Ororo." Vega's voice.   
  
I groaned as I struggled to open my eyes. My head was throbbing persistently. For every beat my heart took, my head pounded in unanimity. I had to open my eyes, but they were refusing to obey my command. I tried to move my arms, but they ignored me as well. My first thought was that Triage had caused extensive damage, and I was now paralyzed.  
  
I tried to open my mouth to answer Vega, to tell him that I couldn't open my eyes, but the small desert that now resided in my mouth, prevented me telling him so. I heard him sigh deeply. "Christie, bring me the water." I heard him command as if he knew just what I needed. His hands cradled the sides of my face for a moment, and then he used his thumbs to massage my lids gently. He stopped for a moment, and I felt him tipping my head back.   
  
When the head tips back, it usually means someone is going to be bit. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. You will be okay. Drink this," he said, bringing a bottle to my lips. I was grateful for the rush of cool water, drinking greedily, ignoring the nausea that was trying to reject the water. My need to quench my thirst outweighed my nausea. "Now, try to open your eyes."  
  
I tried. At first, they still didn't comply, but after a few seconds, they opened slowly. Light assaulted my eyes, and my head protested at the intrusion. Now, I wish I had kept my eyes closed. It would be better than this fresh surge of pain I was now feeling. I tried to turn my head away from the light, and my stomach flipped. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked.  
  
No, I didn't feel alright, and I didn't know why he would ask such a question. Why did people feel the need to ask questions like that when the answer was obvious? "As right as rain," I whispered, holding back a dry heave.   
  
"Huh?" Christie said, her voice laced with surprise.  
  
"Sarcasm, Christie. Good old, Munroe sarcasm. She will be okay." Vega answered, his voice sounding relieved.   
  
I wanted to say that I sure as hell didn't feel okay, but I knew that if I opened my mouth, I was going to throw up all over Vega's pretty, green shirt. I don't think he would have been too happy about that.  
  
"Let me help you sit up," he said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.  
  
My limbs ached as he gently helped me sit up. Another bad idea. The bones in my head felt like they were breaking, and my brain was trying to escape. The mental image of yolk being separated from a cracked egg came to mind. I pulled from his grasp and rolled to my knees, clutching my stomach, ignoring the nauseating pain. I couldn't hold back the heave that escaped my throat as I draped an arm over my midsection, expelling everything from dinner.  
  
I was acutely aware that Vega's arm was clutching my waist as he kneeled beside me. He started to speak soothingly in Spanish, rocking me between retches. I clasped my free hand firmly over the hand that gripped my waist, concentrating on his voice, willing it to take the pain. I breathed deeply, trying to fight the queasiness and the throbbing.  
  
I let my head fall against his chest. He put a hand to my forehead, rocking continuously. The pain was subsiding, and now I felt embarrassed. Here I was—a former goddess—throwing up all over the place. My friends said I always handled everything with a refined poise. Oh, if they could see me now. However, I pushed aside that embarrassed feeling to make way for another thought. Where had the pain gone? Pain doesn't just vanish.  
  
I had been injured enough times to know that pain that excruciating usually stayed with you for a while – unless you were Logan. However even he wasn't completely invulnerable to major damage. There was a reason that I wasn't in extreme pain, and I was betting Vega knew why. "What have you done to me?" I asked in an accusing voice, but I didn't pull away from his consoling embrace.  
  
I heard Christie chuckle from somewhere in the room. "Yes, Vega, what have you done?"  
  
For the first time I heard something other than confidence in Vega's voice when he said, "The master, Sakura, she wanted you alive and unharmed. I only…" He trailed off, and Christie chuckled again.  
  
"You only what?" I nearly screamed, pulling away from him now. I felt better, and I didn't understand how I could recover from such a blow so fast. "What did you do?" I asked through clenched teeth.  
  
"You were hurt bad, and you needed a hospital," he continued.   
  
"So, instead of taking me to a hospital, you bring me here to this place." I said looking around the room. It reminded me of the dungeons you saw in old, horror movies. It was dank, badly-lit, and eerie. There was a corridor not too far from us, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know where it led. "Why didn't you take me to the hospital?"  
  
"We could not take you to a hospital, so I did what I thought was compulsory." I rested my back against the wall. The pain was now only a memory, but I still felt weak. He stood up and picked up a mop and bucket nearby. He splashed water on the floor and went about cleaning the floor, mopping my now expelled dinner and water into a drain. How convenient. I wondered how many people had lost their lunch down here.   
  
It was odd seeing Vega undertaking such a servile task. I always imagined him as the type of master vampire that had minions readily available to take care of such things, but that was beside the point. The point was I wanted to know what was happening. He hadn't taken me to the hospital, but he had done something.   
  
"How are you feeling, Ororo?" Christie asked, still smirking.   
  
"I am fine, but how?" I asked.  
  
Christie curled her lip, showing off her glittering fangs. I get the feeling she was trying to be impressive. It would take more than a little fang flashing to impress me. "She wants to know how, Vega. Should I inform her or should I let you do the honors?" She asked.  
  
"I only did it because it was necessary and you could not do it." He said defensively, anger making his voice chill the air.  
  
"Even if I could, I wouldn't have done it for her." Christie shot back, crossing her arms.  
  
Apprehension was building inside of me. "Will someone, please, just tell me what's going on?" Neither vampire made a move to speak to me. In fact, they made no move at all. It was like looking at statues as a museum, and I'm sure they could stand there equally as long.  
  
"Sakura would not allow me to take you to the hospital. I was afraid you would die if something wasn't done. In fact, I'm sure you would have died. So, I shared my life force with you." Vega said, his words coming out in one big blur.   
  
I shook my head not understanding what he was trying to tell me. "I don't follow you." I said, and Christie let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Fine, I'll tell her what's going on in a way she'll understand, and then we'll see how grateful she really is." Christie said, turning to me. She walked toward me, dropping to her knees in front of me. "Look me in my eyes, Ororo, and tell me what you feel."  
  
I reluctantly looked into her pale, gray eyes, and I felt nothing. "I feel nothing." I responded, looking away from her.  
  
"And you never will again. You are now almost completely immune to our gaze. Vega has taken the first step to making you a human servant." She explained slowly.  
  
Ridiculous, she was lying. "He didn't bite me, send me into a deep trance, or anything –" I started to protest and she cut me off with the wave of a hand.  
  
"He didn't turn you into one of those detestable halflings. Vega has shared the ultimate gift a vampire can give a human. I'm talking about someone who will never be bitten, never be hurt, and who will age almost as slowly as we do. Someone who will have all of out strengths; none of our weakness. Don't think this means that Vega runs around making human servants out of every pretty face. There can be only one. Mind you, Vega's only taken the first step with you."  
  
"No…" I said. I didn't believe her.  
  
"I took some of your pain and gave you some of my resilience." Vega interjected from across the room.   
  
"Am I some sort of slave now?" I asked. This was a big pill to swallow. She was telling me that I now somehow bound to Vega.   
  
"No. You will only serve him if you want to. You are now immune to his voice and his power. It doesn't matter either way really. Once the master finds out what has been done, you are both in trouble." Christie said wit a grim tone. She shook her head at me and walked away. She walked up the stairs and out of the door.   
  
"Why?" I asked Vega, catching his eye. I stood slowly. "Why would you do this for me?"  
  
"Because we needed you alive. If you had died, we would've been disciplined severely. Triage is already learning his lesson as we speak." He turned from me and walked toward the stairs. He paused for a second when his foot hit the first step. He didn't turn to face me as he said his next words, "And maybe because I like you." He continued his trek up the stairs, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone.   
  
I sat there for a moment, expecting him to come back, but after a while, I figured they intended to leave me here for a while. I stood up and quickly rushed up the stairs, turning the knob on the door. It was locked naturally, but there was that urge to check it – just to reaffirm it. This would be a lot easier if I had something to pick these locks with. I pounded on the door with my fists.   
  
"Is this any way to treat a guest?" I called through the door. I sat down on the top step, wondering what was going to become of me. I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit here for a little while. They had to come back for me eventually; the master wanted to see me. Perhaps, they were preparing me a nice banquet. I thought mockingly.  
  
I saw a rat peer from around a corner of the "dungeon" corridor. You couldn't have a proper dungeon without rats I suppose. I think they were on the dungeon check sheet. Damp walls. Check. Rats. Check. Where was all this sarcasm coming from? I saw another rat scurry from around the corner. Mickey brought company. I guess they wanted me to know that I wasn't alone.   
  
What walked from around the corridor next was enough to send me screaming. It was as big as a dog, but its features were rat-like. It sat up on its hind legs, tilting its head, and staring at me through its beady eyes. Rats were one thing. Rats the size of a dog are another. I stood and started pounding on the locked door gain. "Vega!"   
  
"They will not come for you until we are done." I heard a voice say behind me. I turned around slowly. An ocean of furry bodies in different sizes covered the floor now, but in the midst of them, one man-sized rat stood with blonde fur.  
  
"Wererats." I whispered. I'd seen a lot of werecreatures in my life—leopards, tigers, even cats—but I had only heard about wererats. Now, I was seeing them firsthand.   
  
"Come down and play with us." The creature said. I stood motionless. There was no way I was leaving these steps.  
  
"No thank you. I'm too old to play." I answered as boldly as I could. I was scared. I couldn't lie about that, but I wasn't about to become rat feed… or worse.   
  
The creature chuckled deep in his throat and said, "We could come to you. We could force you to play with us. So, why don't you make this easy on yourself and come down to us, yes?" I didn't like that idea one bit, but I wasn't about to let him see I was afraid of him.  
  
"If you want me," I sneered. "Come and get me." Perhaps that wasn't the smartest thing for a defenseless, tired woman to say. The creature sent two of the larger rats up to fetch me. I could tell by the eyes that they were indeed human as well, and when my eyes wandered a little lower, I could tell they were definitely male. Goddess. I pushed myself against the door. What could be worse than this?   
  
The auburn colored one reached me first, and I felt a claw on my pants leg. Without thinking, I kicked the rat in the face, and it let out a squeal as it flew over the edge of the stairs back into the pit of rats. The other one, which had a sandy brown sort of mane, stopped in its tracks. It seemed to be sizing me up. "Bring her to me!" The leader commanded.   
  
The rat tackled me, pulling me a down the steps a little. My ribs hurt slightly from the impact of falling against the steps, but I wasn't going to let a little pain hold me back. My life was at stake. I started flailing like a mad woman. "Get off of me!" I screamed.  
  
The little rat (excuse my pun) let go of my leg long enough to try to restrain me. He straddled my hips, but I continued to bat at him with my hands. I felt claws on my arms as he tried to hold back my hands. He was ripping my sleeves to shreds – literally. Please, don't scratch me. I begged silently. The last thing I needed was for this thing to scratch me. Let's just say that if this rat scratched me chances are I would be in need of a serious haircut next month.   
  
I needed to get him off of me. I wasn't going to be able to keep swatting at him for long. I remembered something I learned from a women's self-defense manual. Our strength lied in our legs. Using the power of our legs, we could even roll a perpetrator off. I braced my feet against one of the steps, pushing my hips at an angle. He tottered forward, his whiskers scrubbing my face, and I quickly rolled to the side, depositing him over the steps. He fell to the floor with a satisfying thud.  
  
I stood up shakily. "Is that the best you can do?" I challenged. It was the adrenalin talking. I felt powerful just then, and I was waiting for the leader to make his next move.   
  
"Do you think you can take us all, human?" He asked.  
  
"There's only one way to find out," I answered bravely. I began to concentrate on the atmosphere in the dungeon. "But just in case, why don't I even the odds?"  
  
The temperature began to steadily rise and a sweltering, stale breeze began to blow slightly. The coverlet of rats began to move away from each other, seeking a cool comfort they wouldn't find. Some of them even scurried back down the corridor – away from me. All that fur and nowhere to hide from the heat. Poor them.   
  
"Cowards!" The leader of the group yelled as the temperature continued to climb. They were nearly crushing each other to get away now. I knew that if I turned it up another notch, I just might kill them all. Did I feel any remorse at the thought I might destroy them? No, I felt nothing. I wasn't a violent person by nature, but I was feeling vengeful at the moment.   
  
"Where is your army now?" I taunted, noting that he tried to fight the impeding heat.   
  
The leader growled at me. "I don't need them to defeat you or your magic." He thought this was magic? He stalked toward me, a determine gleam in his eyes. A few of the brave rats stayed to watch their leader destroy me. But if it was a fight he wanted, it was a fight he was going to get. How cliché.   
  
"You underestimate me. What makes you think this is the best I can do?" I shot back. I didn't know if I had much power to summon up anything stronger; I was still trying to recover from earlier.  
  
This seemed to amuse him because he laughed at me. "You entertain me human. Have you even been with a were?" He asked.   
  
I frowned at the thought. I didn't find the thought of sleeping with a wererat particularly attractive. "No, and you couldn't handle me even if I wanted you to."   
  
"We'll see about that, human." He laughed loudly, as if he had just made a funny joke. I calculated the odds of a stiff kick to the groin working on him. Wererat or not, I didn't know too many men who could shake off a well-aimed kick.  
  
I had forgotten all about the weather in the dungeon as he advanced on me. He walked up the steps slowly, letting my fear build with each step he took. He leaped at me suddenly, and I fell to floor, pulling my knees to my chest. He was on me now, trying to pry my limbs lose. I guess when I told him he couldn't handle me, he took it as an open invitation to actually try.  
  
He reared up for a second, and I knew if I were going to take that kick, now would be the perfect time to do so. I kicked him with everything I had, and he let out a scream-whine combination as he fell back, tumbling down the stairs. He didn't go all the way down, but he went down far enough to feel it.   
  
He didn't move, and for a minute, I actually thought I might have killed him. Relief washed over me, but was quickly banished when I saw his friends were back, and now a new man-sized rat stood among them. His fur was black, and he actually wore clothes. I would have laughed if the situations wasn't so dire.   
  
I readied myself for a second attack. My energy was dwindling, but I would not give in to them. I'd rather die than do that. "I told you not to come here." The black haired rat said to his fallen comrade who was now whimpering. I guess I didn't kill him after all. Damn.  
  
"The master called to me, and I abided." The blonde rat, attempting to sit up on the step he occupied. I watched the exchange between them curiously. Apparently, the blonde haired rat wasn't really the leader.  
  
"I am the master in these parts." The black rat said, striding up the stars and standing over the fallen rat.   
  
"You're a fool if you think you can stand against the she master. She is far more powerful than you, and if she kills you, you will no longer be anyone's king." The blonde haired rat said spitefully.  
  
The "king" picked the blonde rat up and started to shake him violently. "I am your master. Never, never disobey me again or I will kill you." He threw the rat down the stairs. I actually winced when the rat hit the ground. "Are you okay?"  
  
I looked at the king startled. "Yes, I am fine. Thank you." Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he saved me.  
  
He snorted at me. "I don't need your apologies. I don't give a damn about your life, but I refuse to let my people obey the vampires." He said with obvious hatred in his voice. I don't know if that hatred was directed at the vampires or me. I was putting my money on the vampires.   
  
His words didn't anger me. "You have still spared my life, and for that I must thank you." I reiterated. I probably didn't mean anything to him in the grand scheme of things, but I was still appreciative nonetheless.   
  
"You are welcome." He said, his voice a little softer now. "Why do they want you?"  
  
"They want me to work for them." I replied.  
  
"Do it, human. They will hurt you." This coming from the same wererat who told me seconds earlier he didn't give a damn about my life. If he didn't care about my life, why was he offering me advice?   
  
"Some advice coming from someone who's disobeying a direct command. You could do as she wants and save yourself from punishment." I said with a half-smile.  
  
The king chuckled. "I don't always follow my own advice. The master thinks she can control us because rats are hers to control, but she forgets that we are men first. We think for ourselves." He tilted his head as if he were listening to something. "They are coming for you."  
  
He quickly ran down the steps, scooping up his unconscious (or was he dead?) friend, disappearing down the corridor. The door opened, and I found Christie looking at me expectantly. When she saw I was okay, she looked disappointed. "Where are they?" She asked. I shrugged, trying to appear blasé.   
  
"Did they frighten you?" She asked. I shrugged again. Yeah, they had frightened me, but I wasn't going to tell her that. I knew that she would probably enjoy hearing about how much the rats had really scared me. "They were supposed to frighten you, but apparently, they did not do their job."  
  
"Maybe, I am not easily frightened. There are worse terrors in the world than rats." And that was the truth. The rats were frightening in their own right, but I could think of things far worse.  
  
"And you're about to meet one of them." Christie said with satisfied grin. I was now anxious at the thought of meeting the master. She seemed to hold a great deal of power. Something told me I should be afraid, but after what I just went through, I had enough endorphins running through me to last a lifetime.   
  
Fear was the last thing crossing my mind. "Remind me to thank her for the lovely evening during the formal introductions." I said sarcastically, following Christie down the hallway. Christie chuckled, but her laugh held no amusement. Instead, it chimed with a caustic note like nails scraping a chalkboard.


	6. Chapter Six

6.

Christie led me to a large, lavishly decorated room. Sitting before me was a child. She couldn't have been more than 13-years-old when she died, and even thirteen was quite a hasty judgment for her human age. Her glossy, brown hair was cut in a boy-style haircut that brushed the top of small ears. She didn't betray the curves of womanhood; she'd still been too young to develop when she was turned. She was a striking child, reminding me of a rather effeminate boy. Tomboyish in a feminine way I guess you could say.

In fact, I wouldn't have been completely sure she was a girl if it hadn't been for the schoolgirl getup she was wearing. A dark blue, short, pleated skirt stopped around mid-thigh complete with a cropped crisp, white shirt and a yellow ascot. Britney Spears would be proud. So unless we had cross-dressing, prepubescent vampires who posed as girls, she was definitely a girl, and judging from the power that radiated from her, she was definitely the master.   
  
Two human men stood behind her chair, their backs planted firmly to the wall. One had that same short cut as Sakura, hair nearly the same shade. He held the air of a man with a lot of dignity, and he was decidedly handsome. He seemed like the loyal type. The other man had blonde hair that just touched his shoulders, a half-smile covered his face, and he seemed almost mischievous in a way. His eyes held a roguish light the other man's didn't. He wasn't handsome, but he wasn't unsightly. He had the kind of features that could grow on you. I felt like I knew him from somewhere.  
  
Christie walked away from me, going to stand by Sakura's left side, brushing her fingers intimately over Sakura's shoulders. Moments later, Vega entered the room and stood stiffly at Sakura's right side. He didn't look at me, but rather stared at a fixed point above my head. He seemed out of place – apart from the rest of them.  
  
"Where is the rest of the hopscotch club?" I quipped.  
  
Sakura laughed with childlike innocence. False gullibility. She may look young and harmless, but I wasn't fooled. "I heard you had a provocative sense of humor." Her voice was young and sweet, reminding me of a bright, spring day.  
  
"Provocative. What a big word for such a little girl." I said. That statement should have been followed with me patting her on the head as if she was a good girl, but she might not like that much.  
  
She tittered again with that same chimelike laugh. Who did she think she was fooling? I guess it was all part of her plan to get me to "trust" her. Well, I didn't trust vampires, even if they looked like they could be someone's kid sister. As far as I was concerned, everyone in this room had an ulterior motive.   
  
"I'm betting you spent all night practicing your best innocent act for me. I'm touched, really." I said cynically. I knew I was being overly sarcastic, but I wasn't exactly in the best of moods. Vega curled his lip as if he were trying to decide to laugh or scowl. It would have probably been a mixture of both.   
  
The charm slipped from Sakura's face. Her expression was now steady and dangerous like a snake before he attacked his prey. "You really shouldn't test me, mortal." The voice was still sweet – too sweet.  
  
"Look, this hasn't been the greatest night for me. First, your idiotic henchman nearly bashes my skull in. Next, you have me left in a room with wererats, and I'm sure you can tell from my appearance," I paused to pluck at a tattered piece of my shirt, "we had quite a wild time. Now, I'm brought here where everyone acts as if I'm supposed to be thrilled to meet you. Well, pardon me if I don't act like Mary fucking Sunshine."   
  
There was that rarely used swear word again. This was the second time in two—technically three—days that I had used it. This time it seemed justified, and I didn't regret saying it. I was hungry, scared, tired, and I just wanted to go home. I was tired of playing their games. My patience was wearing thin, and I was having a hard time controlling my surmounting anger.   
  
Sakura sneered at me and said, "I see why Triage attacked you. You are very…"  
  
"Stupid." Vega finished for her finally looking me in the face.   
  
I held back the stream of words that threatened to flow from my mouth. The anger was continuing to build. I knew it wouldn't take much more until it was flowing over like flooding river, condemning everyone in its path. I had to control it; I had no other choice. "I just want to conduct business so I can go home. I did not come to make friends with the Vampire Brigade."  
  
Sakura made a sound in her throat. "How old am I, mortal?" She asked, disregarding my statement. I wish they would stop calling me mortal. I definitely knew where Christie had picked up her affection for the word from though. The way they said it made it sound as if I were some diseased person. The world held a certain amount of contempt as it rolled off their lips.   
  
"I don't know." I answered, and I truthfully couldn't tell how old she was.  
  
Sakura turned her head slowly to look at Vega. "I thought you said she could tell." Sakura said to him, her voice tinged with irritation. So, Vega had been bragging on my superior vampire senses. I think that fascinated him (and maybe it fascinated all vampires) for some reason. It was almost as if I was running around the city saying, "My vampire-sense is tingling". That sounded very Spiderman-esque. I wonder if Spidey would be too agitated if I borrowed that phrase for a while.   
  
"She can." Vega said in his defense.  
  
"How old is Vega?" She asked me, turning to me again. Her voice was no longer sweet. Now, it betrayed age and knowledge. If I hadn't been looking at her, I wouldn't have believed the voice came from her.  
  
"Around 500-years-old. Definitely no older than 550-years-old." I responded, promptly, studying Vega for a moment. He smiled in my direction, and I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of the kiss from earlier.  
  
"What if I say he's older?" She challenged, and I stared at her with a hard expression.  
  
"I would say you were wrong." I snapped.  
  
She raised her eyebrows at me. "And why's that?"  
  
"Because that's how old he feels." I answered. I hated explaining how it worked, but I felt obligated to tell her. It always made me seem weird. That thought is funny coming from a mutant. I embraced my mutant power, but this feeling about vampires made me feel like a freak – to put it bluntly. "I can feel a certain degree of power emanating from him, and from that, I am able to tell how old he is."   
  
"Look me in my eyes, mortal." She said. There was that word again. I looked into her eyes. They were a dark shade of brown, nothing spectacular. Except, her gaze was tangible… if that makes any sense. It was as if I could actually feel it pressing against my skin. If I had sliced my hand through the air, I could have cut through it. No matter how physical if felt, I could meet her eyes, and I don't think that was I was supposed to do that.  
  
She stood from her seat then and walked toward me. I wanted to back away from her, but I held my ground. She stopped a few feet away from me, and I felt a pressing pressure on my brain. I grabbed my head as thoughts attacked me like a pack of hungry wolves. I fell to my knees heavily, but the slight pain in my knees didn't measure up to the pain in my head.   
  
The need to beg for her forgiveness, to tell her how insignificant I was compared to her, weighed heavily in my head. I should crawl on my knees and kiss her feet. I began to crawl to her like a disobedient child who wanted mother to forgive her. I should worship Sakura for the goddess… (goddess?) she was. I should do anything she asked of me because she was a… goddess.  
  
"No…" I said, refusing to crawl any further. Images of my mother's dead body, clutching me, grinning at me with a toothless grin flashed through my mind, and I tried unsuccessfully to bite back a sob. Then, my throat started to constrict, and the terrifying feeling of being enclosed cause me to gasp for breath. I clutched my head again, opening my mouth to let out a silent scream.  
  
This girl, this monster, was dissecting my mind, probing for my worse fears. "I will forgive you my child," her voice was smooth and tender, a spoken kiss upon my ears. The tension eased. She held out her arms in a loving manner, and I started to crawl forward for she was my… my…  
  
"Goddess," I whispered, and then I stopped crawling again. "No!" I screamed this last word. I would not crawl to her. She was not my goddess. I slammed my fist again the concrete floor, still the pieces of my sanity continued to crumble. I slammed my fist again the floor until the blood flowed from my knuckles, the pain pulling me back to reality.  
  
She is not your goddess, a voice said. Whether it was my own inner-voice or one of her mind games was unknown, but she was not my goddess. She is not your goddess, the voice said again. "You are not my goddess," I said contemptuously. I could feel something dark course through me, and it chased away pieces of her mind. This definitely was not her doing. Show her who is a goddess, who is to be feared, the voice said. I could feel myself giving into this voice, obeying its call.  
  
No, I could not cross that line. I cannot lose hold of my humanity. To do so would mean destruction to not only Sakura, but also the world. "No…" I said again, this time fighting against the demoness that threatened to surface. Finally, I collapsed to the floor from the strain.   
  
"We have found quite a few things the mortal fears. Her own power being one of them." Sakura said, her voice coated with that sugary-sweetness again. I glared up at her then. She terrified me, but she angered me as well. I didn't know how much more of this I could endure. I would either go crazy or lose control. Neither sounded particularly appealing. "Now, I ask you again. How old am I?"  
  
I trembled like a leaf during a rainstorm. "1000-years-old. Maybe more," I said with exhaustion lining my voice. I sat up slowly, not daring to stand at that moment.   
  
Sakura nodded approvingly, "She is good, Vega." She laughed again, and I felt the urge to slam her face against the concrete as I had done with my knuckles. The only thing that stopped me was the fear of what she might do to me. She put her face close to mine, breathing into my face as if taunting me. I curled my fists at my sides.  
  
Her breath smelled faintly of Colgate. Well, somebody had brushed their fangs this evening. Underneath the minty smell of toothpaste, I could smell the essence of death. "Your breath stinks of blood." I said dryly, and she pulled away from me, covering her mouth with a dainty hand.  
  
"The police only know about four vampire murders. There have really been six." She said, walking away from me. Was there some rule that said all master vampires should change the subject of a conversation every three seconds?  
  
"Shouldn't you tell the police?" I asked.  
  
"We may be equal to you mortals, but that doesn't mean that we can trust the mortal laws." She sighed, and I would've said it sounded regretful. I wanted to tell her to join the bandwagon. Mutants weren't exactly reaping the rewards of some of the recent laws made for us either, but I kept quiet. "Vega was the fifth strongest vampire in this city, but now he is the third."  
  
I snapped my heard toward Vega quickly and he nodded, affirming her statement. "You mean something has killed vampires stronger than Vega." My heart actually dropped to my stomach. I didn't give a damn about them, but it was terrifying to think that there was something out there strong enough to kill powerful vampires.  
  
"We have a witness to the second murder. He will tell us everything won't he, Ken?" She said with a commanding tone. The blonde man standing against the wall nodded. I did know him from somewhere; I just didn't know where.   
  
I stood up as he walked to a small door across the room. Opening the door, he beckoned a man to enter the room. The man was around 30-ish, slender, apparently a businessman from the suit and neat haircut he sported. The man looked around the room lost. A frightened look pervaded his face when he saw Sakura. He looked human, but he smelled of death – a zombie.   
  
Ken talked to the zombie slowly, "You will answer the master's question." He gestured toward Sakura, and the zombie nodded fearfully.   
  
"We've been having problems with him answering our questions." Sakura said, clicking her tongue. "We tortured him to get answers, but he hung himself before we could finish. So, I had Ken animate him." Ken was an animator. That explained where I seen him.  
  
Sakura seemed to take a sick satisfaction in the fact that she had tortured someone and he had killed himself. "I… what… hung…?" The zombie said, looking around the room for answers. Goddess, he didn't even know he was dead.   
  
"Ask him what you will, Sakura." Ken said.  
  
"Who killed Arkady?" She asked. I guess Arkady was the name of the vampire he saw killed. The zombie didn't say anything, and his fear was obviously building as the seconds passed. Sakura tapped a foot against the concrete impatiently. "Why doesn't he answer me?"  
  
"The question is too hard for him." Ken responded, eyeing the zombie with palpable disgust.   
  
"Then, you ask him." She snapped, her voice echoing through the room. Sakura reminded of a spoiled child. Everything was supposed to go her way. I actually hoped that whatever it was that was killing the vampires killed her next.  
  
"Did you see a vampire die?" Ken asked, and the zombie nodded. "How did he die?"  
  
"Head cut off, heart ripped out." He answered.  
  
"Who did it?" Ken asked, and the zombie shrugged his shoulders. I could see Ken redden as the zombie continued to shrug his shoulders in a jerky manner.  
  
"Ask him what killed the vampire." I said, and Ken shot me a dirty look. I was just trying to help. I know how some animators felt about their zombies.   
  
"Ask her question Ken." Sakura commanded.   
  
"What killed the vampire?" Ken asked, and the zombie shook his head not understanding. "Was it a vampire?"  
  
"No." The zombie answered.  
  
"A human?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What killed him then?" Ken asked with impatience lining his voice. The zombie started shaking his head, and Ken struck him repeatedly. "You will tell me!"  
  
My stomach turned as I watched him beat on the zombie. It was a disgusting display of violence against someone who couldn't defend himself. The man hadn't asked for this. He hadn't asked to be tortured. He thought death was his only way out, and now, even death wasn't merciful to him.   
  
"Stop!" I commanded, walking toward them. Ken turned on me, and I glared at him. I hope he didn't think he intimidated me. After the way this night had gone, I'd be more than happy to ram his head into the wall a few times.  
  
"Why don't you mind your own business?" He said nastily.  
  
I stooped down, hugging the zombie, trying to comfort him the best I could. He sobbed in my arms, and I wanted to tell him that I knew how he felt. I wanted to cry too, but I had shed enough tears tonight.  
  
"This man used to be a human being. How would you like it if someone raised you from the dead and beat you? I don't think you would like it." I felt Ken hovering over me, but I did not acknowledge him. I turned the zombie's face toward mine. Fear was etched deeply into his skin.  
  
"He will not answer your questions." I said once I cajoled the zombie. "He could have retained his mind for a week, but now, shock and ill treatment has destroyed his mind."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sakura asked.  
  
"In a literal sense, he broke him, and now, you'll never get your answers from him." I said flatly, turning my eyes toward her. "Any real expert would have known that, and any master should've have been smart enough to prevent that."  
  
Sakura's rage began to fill the room. "Get her out of her now before I kill her." She said with quiet rage. Vega moved to help me I suppose, but Sakura stopped him. "You, stay."   
  
She instructed Ken and the other human, Ryu, to see me safely to my car. I didn't know what was going on here, but suddenly, the tension was a little thicker in the room. I followed Ken to the door, turning to look back at Vega. I hadn't been able to get my promise of Jean's safety.   
  
However, Sakura was now levitating, staring accusingly at Vega, and Vega… well… he no longer looked like the Vega I had come to know. He looked more dangerous now as he faced Sakura defiantly. What was going on? What had I missed? "Run." Vega said simply, not turning to look at me, but I knew he was talking to me. A strong grasp pulled me gently out of the room; the door slammed in my face. I turned to look at Ken and Ryu.   
  
"We must go," Ryu said softly. I stood staring at the door as what sounded like a storm began to brew on the other side. "We must leave this place."  
  
I turned away from the door, following the two men away, the sounds in the room becoming louder and louder. The smell of rotting bodies began to fill the air, and then the door blew, releasing the fury inside. I ran, latching tightly to the first hand that was shoved my way. I didn't know whose it was, but it didn't matter. The wind coming from the room was furious.   
  
It chased us throughout the corridors of the dim, twisting hallways. My legs ached from the continuous running, but I wouldn't stop. Stopping could be dangerous. "What's going on?" I screamed over the roaring winds.  
  
"The masters are fighting!" Ryu answered.   
  
I didn't understand. Why were they fighting? It didn't make sense. I didn't get to ask my burning questions as we continued to run through the hallways away from the "fighting". We ran seemingly forever, eluding the livid winds that chased us. Finally, I saw a set of stairs looming before me. To my right, I heard carnival music.   
  
"This is the way out." Ken said, his voice sounded relieved.   
  
As we ran toward the stairs I looked down the hallway to my right, but I saw no carnival, just another huge door. The music was coming from behind the doors. "What is it?" I asked, slowing down my pace a little despite the current of air that was whipping my hair.   
  
"The Circus of the Damned." Ken answered. The Circus of the Damned was where the city's most power vampires rested. There were not many humans who knew where this place was. "Come Ororo, we can't linger here much longer."  
  
We began to jog up the stairs, the winds rapidly chasing us. We were almost at the door when Ken fell. Ryu stopped, calling his Ken's name, going back down the steps to help him. "You open that door. I will help, Ken." I said.   
  
I didn't know if this was going to work, but I had to try. If it had an atmosphere, I could manipulate it. Let's just hope my strength lasted long enough. Ken was struggling against the winds that were dragging him backward. I concentrated, focusing my energy, using my own power to manipulate their winds, to push back their angry tempest.   
  
"Ken! You must hurry. I cannot hold them back much longer." Ken stood quickly, running toward me, fear in his eyes. He grabbed my hands suddenly, breaking my concentration. He half-carried, half-dragged me up the stairs. Ryu was standing at the door waiting. He pulled us through the door, slamming it close at the crucial moment.   
  
I breathed in deeply once we were outside. Freedom. Ken and Ryu walked me to my (rather Scott's) car. I couldn't wait to get away from this place. We stood by the car for a few moments. I think we all were reflecting on how close he had come to dying.   
  
"Do you really hate them as much as they say you do?" Ryu asked me.  
  
"Pardon?" I asked.  
  
"The vampires. Do you really hate them?" He asked again. His voice was calm and nonjudgmental. It seemed like just a curious questions coming from him.  
  
"I don't hate them." I answered, not meeting his eyes. Someone should paint the word "liar" on my forehead.  
  
"Then, why do you kill them?" He asked.  
  
"Because I am afraid of them." I answered, looking into the man's eye. That was the truth.   
  
"Most people run from the things they fear."  
  
"I'm not most people." I answered.  
  
He nodded, understanding lighting his eyes. "We are your daytime contacts. If you need anything, contact us." He handed me a card, and I shoved it into my pants pocket. I exchanged a few more words with Ryu. Ken leaned against the trunk of the car as if he were deep thought. When there was nothing left to be said, I left.  
  
  
  
After nearly wrapping Scott's car around a tree, I finally arrived at the mansion safely. I sat in the garage for a moment thinking about how lucky I really was. I shouldn't have made it out of that place alive, but I did. The fates must be on my side tonight. That assumption just didn't feel right though. I would have been long dead, my corpse in some early stage of rigor mortis, if it hadn't been for Vega. "The ultimate gift," that was what Christie had called it hadn't she?  
  
My hands were still gripping the steering wheel tightly. My knuckles didn't hurt much, only a dull throbbing came from them, but they were still quite bloody from my fistfight with the floor. I wish I could say the same for the rest of my body. I couldn't wait to see the purplish bruises that would adorn my body. I say that with the utmost sarcasm.  
  
I took a moment to look in the mirror, hoping I didn't look as bad as I felt. No such luck. My normally neat hair was standing on edge, giving me the appearance of a mad Ophelia, and my clothing looked as if it had just lost the war. It was still somewhat early. The sun hadn't even started to chase away the darkness. I could shower and rest a few hours before it was time for classes. That really wasn't anything new, but I never had to teach class after a long night of abuse.  
  
I just had to be extra quiet tonight when I went into the mansion. The children and my friends should all be in bed. Sometimes, when I arrived home at this hour, Jean will wake up and ask me about my night. She seemed truly interested in the animation of the dead, and she even made me promise that I would take her with me to work on night. I told her I would see what I could do. I ran my hands through my hair tersely and retrieved my jacket from the passenger seat, putting it on, trying to hide the damage to my shirt.  
  
I felt like a child who had just missed curfew. I entered the mansion as quietly as I could, nearly tiptoeing as I placed Scott's keys back on his "designated" key holder. I crept up the stairs, making a silent note to skip the squeaky ones. I just needed to get to my room. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally stood in front of my door. I started tugging at my jacket as I entered my room. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Logan sitting at my desk.   
  
"Goddess, Logan, do you know how much you scared me?" I said, putting a hand to my chest. My heart was beating furiously in my chest. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Logan turned around in my chair, holding a paper full of red marks. "Gradin' tests."   
  
Tossing my jacket on the bed, I crossed the room and took the test from Logan. "Thanks Logan, but I don't think writing 'wrong answer dumb ass' is exactly very professional. I do appreciate the gesture, though." I said with a laugh, tucking the paper back in the pile.  
  
"Who won? You or them?" Logan said, inspecting me. I knew what I must look like just then with my bloody knuckles, tousled hair, and torn shirt. He was thinking I'd been in some sort of fight. Well, I had sort of, but it wasn't what he was thinking.  
  
"Me." I said quietly. I don't know if that was truly a correct statement. I stood up to the wererats by myself for the most part, but I know if it hadn't been for the rat king, I would have eventually been dinner. As far as the master went, I was nowhere near any competition for her.   
  
"I hate to see what the other person looks like then." Logan joked. His voice sounded distant, and maybe this was because I wasn't really listening to him. My thoughts were with Vega. He was fighting her – the master. I wonder how he fared, and I shuddered when the thought of his death emerged. "You okay 'Ro?"  
  
I looked at him and smiled. I patted his hand softly and said, "Yes, Logan. It has just been a long, trying night for me."  
  
"I suppose it was. There's a rumor floatin' around that you just got to meet the most powerful vampire in this city." He said with a perfectly, unreadable poker face. "You're alive, so I'm takin' that to mean it went alright."  
  
I let my hand rest on his for a moment. If I hadn't been caught off guard by his last statement, I might have taken the opportunity to reflect on how close we were, but at this moment, there was no time for unrequited doting feelings to surface. "Who told you that?" I asked.  
  
"My sources."  
  
"You don't have those kind of sources." I said. Mental images of Logan throwing people around, maybe even stabbing a few came to mind. He always had a rather confrontational way for getting answers. Logan was know for hanging out in some interesting—and I stress interesting—places, so maybe he did have his sources. Not likely though. I sighed and said, "Please don't tell me you maimed, slashed, or skewered anyone to find out that information."  
  
"Okay, I won't tell you, then." He shrugged. I frowned at him. Excessive force, it was the way of the Wolverine. "I was just worried about you, 'Ro. You've been acting awfully damn funny. I know you said you had some trouble you need to sort out, but I was worried."  
  
"I'm okay. I'm still in one piece, so there is nothing to worry about."  
  
"And what about the next time? Will you be as lucky?" He asked. That was a good question. Sakura was so impulsive. She could've killed me tonight, and my death probably wouldn't mean anything to her. "You're in pretty deep, huh?"  
  
"Drowning in it." I answered.  
  
"Why don't you tell me about it?" It sounded more a command than a request.   
  
I paused for a moment for a moment, mentally rehashing all the reasons why I couldn't tell him. Then, I decided what the hell? I needed someone on my side. So, I skimmed the events from the night before, not mentioning that Jean had been preyed upon. Instead, I told him that they threatened to expose me as a mutant. Not true because I would then share all the knowledge I have about their little playground, and I'm sure the vampires knew that. I didn't tell him about Vega either or the human servant thing. I stuck to the major points in the story conveniently forgetting the parts he didn't need to know. Half-truths otherwise known as lies.  
  
"Is that it?" He asked when I finished speaking. He knew I was leaving parts of the story out. He could undoubtedly sense the lie. "You don't to do this alone. I can help you."  
  
"I know you can, Logan, but I would be selfishly putting your life in danger for my own gain." I answered, shaking my head.  
  
"It ain't selfish if I want to help." He stood from my chair with a half-grin. "You ain't the only one who should get to have all the fun around here. You're out killin' vampires, and I'm stuck playin' Monopoly with a kid who can move things with his mind."  
  
I chuckled. "I'll think about it, but in the meantime, I need to rest. I have a busy day ahead of me." I said, ushering Logan to the door.  
  
After Logan left, I took a relaxing shower, taking care to note the extensive bruising on my body. I wish I could wash away those bruises, this night… everything. The quicker I solve this case for the vampires, the quicker they would disappear out of my life. Sounds like a plan to me.


	7. Chapter Seven

7.  
  
I was standing at the entrance of a dilapidated graveyard. The smell of decay and death filled my nostrils, and I fought the urge to retch. I clutched my stomach tightly, keeling over, as my eyes took in the sight before me. The gravestones were in various states of disrepair — many of them sinking into the soft earth. A one-winged angel stared at me from atop a nearby marker, his head tilted, a slight smile covering his face. "Does an angel contemplate my fate?" I asked myself sardonically, staring back at the baby-faced angel. I thought I saw the angel nod his head, but statues don't move.  
  
I swallowed hard and stood up straight, looking up at the midnight sky. Stars winked at me with a disturbing expectancy, and the moon peeked at me warily from behind stray, dark cloud, seemingly trying to warn me of the danger I was in. I thought I heard a voice whispering, and I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone else trapped with me. I saw no one.   
  
I turned to walk away from the graveyard, except there was nothing to turn back to. I was faced with a dark abyss that scared me more than the graveyard. I turned once again to the graveyard, my mouth drying at the thought of actually having to walk through it. I didn't have much of a choice though. I couldn't just stand at the entrance. Something told me that wouldn't be such a wise decision. In fact, if I did stand there, it just might be the stupidest decision I ever made in my life.  
  
Walking through a graveyard barefoot in my nightgown didn't seem like such a smart choice either, but it would be better than standing there. And I wasn't about to take my chances with the obscure void behind me. I stepped into the cemetery, walking with slow, calculated steps.  
  
My heart beat intermittently in my chest, betraying how afraid I was. This was ridiculous. Why should I be afraid of the one place I probably spent a large amount of my time? Then again, there was—and will always be—something infinitely spine-chilling about cemeteries. I walked between the rows of decrepit graves, letting my eyes examining some of the surnames. All seemed dreadfully familiar, but I couldn't place a face to most of the family names.  
  
My pace slowed as the moon disappeared from view, rendering me lightless. Even the moon would forsake me in this place, leaving me in the dark shadow of a large, looming crypt. Written above the door were the words Justus Et Pius – Latin for just and faithful. That was an unusual phrase to have above a crypt door. Near the entryway were a stake and mallet. I picked them up, holding them familiarly in my hands, stepping into the door of the crypt. An ethereal glow emitted from the torches as I stepped into the main room.  
  
Sitting in the middle of the floor was a stand holding a large book. The book was obviously very old. It was a simple, dusty, black book with a family crest on the cover; the pages had turned an aged yellow. Extolled on the cover were these words: Quod Sum Eris. Another Latin phrase meaning, "I am what you will be." This made better sense than the previous phrase because it was used mostly on headstones, but for some reason the axiom made my blood chill.  
  
I opened the book slowly, scanning the words. It was written completely in Latin documenting the deaths of the inhabitants of the crypt. Most of them had met a gruesome fate. This family seemed to be hated and continuously persecuted throughout the centuries. I stopped, abruptly, when I read the name "Vega Fabio de Cerna". I stared at the name, committing it to memory. I wasn't sure if I wanted to read anymore, but at the same time, I was inquisitive…  
  
Before I could read any of Vega's history, the feeling of being watched alerted my wits. I looked up from the book and I swore I could see Vega's green eyes appearing before me, seeming to blaze through me. "Ororo…" his voice whispered, snaking across my skin in a verbal embrace. I followed those floating, green pools down a long set of steps, leading to the final resting place of this family.   
  
The smell of death grew stronger with each step I took, but I had to follow the eyes – his eyes. I gripped the stake and mallet tightly in my hands, unsure of what to expect. I just knew that if I was threatened, I would not hesitate to use my acquire weapons. Vega's eyes disappeared as I walked into a dim room where many caskets rested. They were all bolted shut, but there was one open.  
  
I readied my stake, my bare feet padding softly against the floor. I moved with the stealth of a panther stalking its prey. I was no longer Ororo Munroe, weather witch; I was now Ororo Munroe, vampire hunter. My senses heightened, listening for anything that would disclose the vampire – or whatever it was. I walked to the coffin, peering over into it cautiously. I saw a pool of deep, rubescent blood. I frowned deeply, standing straight again.   
  
That meant it was out. I looked around the dark room, carefully inspecting my surroundings. Abrupt movement in the coffin brought my attention back to the casket. I gasped loudly, trying to back away from the casket as a body sat straight up in the blood; two bloody hands suddenly grabbed my wrists with a death vise, pulling me back toward the casket. I dropped the mallet and stake into the blood-filled coffin, struggling against my captor. I stopped fighting when I noticed the magnetic, green eyes. "Vega?" I breathed.  
  
He was speaking to me, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Maybe, it was because I was revolted at the image of him bathed in blood, his normally blonde hair saturated so deeply that it now appeared a dark red. He pulled me toward him and once again, I resisted. He pulled me in for a kiss, the iron taste of blood invading my mouth, burning my lips, my tongue, my throat as his tongue struggled against my own.   
  
I leaned into his hold, offering more of myself to him. "Touching you makes me feel alive…" He murmured in my ear, touching his lips softly to my ear, making me think he never said anything at all. A barrage of unholy kisses rained upon me, exploring the curve of my jaw and the line of my neck, leaving behind meticulously placed crimson lip prints.   
  
Drops of blood spattered on my white gown; a couple of drops fell onto my bare chest. He dipped his head to lick the blood slowly from my chest, his tongue lapping at my skin. Closing my eyes another iniquitous wave of bliss hit me causing me to arch my back. Damn my emotions for betraying me, for wanting this. When he pulled away, I could still feel his soft lips against my chest. It was so feathery I thought I had imagined it, but he left a bloody kiss behind as evidence. He released my wrists.   
  
Flattening his hands against my waist, he lifted me into the coffin with an ease only a vampire possesses. He laid me back in the coffin, hovering over me like a rapacious lion. Surprisingly, I didn't drown in the blood, but I was aware of it. I didn't care that I was being soaked it. All I wanted was more of that feeling, more of him. Lust coiled inside of me, winding tighter and tighter, threatening to explode. It was an excruciating bliss that I never wanted to end.  
  
He tangled his hands in the straps of my nightgown, pushing them down my shoulders. Pulling the gown away from body. Freeing me from the inhibiting piece of material. All I wanted him to do was touch me, and he boldly explored my body. From the top of my head to my taunt stomach to the soles of my feet, nothing was safe from his kiss. Visceral desire coursed through my veins causing me to want to give him more, to give him something that would mean forever.   
  
His lips trailed over my collarbone, sweeping the side of my breast tenderly, and then latching to it. I felt a pain as teeth sank into flesh. I struggled, panicking, but it was like fighting steel. Then, a blinding passion encompassed me, roaring through my veins. I moaned softly as he hands continue to caress my body, intensifying this new pleasure. I wanted more. The feel of his tongue swirling against my hot skin, willing the blood to flow, sent me down a spiral of longing. I buried my hands in his hair, pushing him closer into my bosom, wishing him to take more… to drain me…   
  
I protested as Vega pulled away from me, leaving me with an aphrodisiac destitute that needed to be filled. "Quod sum eris," he whispered. I shook my head. I found the strength to pull away from Vega, scrambling out of the coffin, my chest heaving, standing before him as naked as the day I was born. My heartbeat was painfully loud in the silent crypt. I was now appalled at the blood that was now covering my body, trying desperately to wipe it from my body. I looked at him. I'm sure my eyes held a look of betrayal and contempt. He didn't seem affected by my glare.   
  
He now had the mallet and stake in his hands. Where had those been when I was in the coffin? Nothing was making sense anymore. "I would die for you…" Vega whispered in my dreams, using the mallet to drive the stake through his heart. I screamed and sat up abruptly in my bed, panting hard. My gown was soaked with sweat, the muscles of my stomach tightening and loosing at a spastic rate.   
  
I couldn't help making sure that my gown was free of blood, and I ran a hand between the valley of my breasts, searching for a bite when I knew there was none to be found. It was just a dream… just a dream. Perhaps, it wouldn't have been quite so bad if it had felt like a dream. I felt as conscious in that dream as I felt now sitting up in my bed – maybe even more so in the dream.  
  
Someone knocked on the door, and I quickly hid my hands beneath the cover. Dream or no dream, I hadn't forgotten my war wounds. "Come in," I called. Jean entered the room cautiously, and I smiled at her. I pushed back all my random thoughts. I didn't think Jean would really peruse my mind, but just in case…  
  
"Are you okay, Ororo?" She asked. "We heard you scream, so I came to check on you."  
  
"I am fine. I just had a bad dream." I answered. That was true, wasn't it? It started bad and ended bad – a certifiable nightmare in my book. She looked at me with worry still etched on her face. "Don't worry, Jean. It was just a bad dream; I'll be downstairs in a little while."  
  
Jean opened her mouth to say something else, but I silenced her with a wave of a commanding hand. She left my room silently, and I got up from my bed slowly. I hurt. I knew I was going to be sore, but I felt as if every muscle in my body was rebelling. I could already tell this was going to be a beautiful day – morbidly speaking of course.   
  
I went through my usual morning routine, taking care to mind my bruises. I spent a few extra minutes looking for something appropriate to wear. By appropriate, I meant something that wasn't going to show any evidence of my excursion last night. I couldn't help sighing as I sieved through my wardrobe. I could think of better ways to spend my morning besides sifting through shirts looking for sleeves that would cover my badly scraped knuckles.  
  
I was doing it mostly for the children's sake. The children had a curious disposition about what I did. I never divulged my other activities to them, but they were not blind. I'm sure they would be more interested in hearing about my night fighting the night creatures than learning about the Spanish Inquisition. Some might even be bold enough to ask me what happened if they spotted the injuries.   
  
After finding a beige, peasant top with bell-sleeves that nearly engulfed my whole hands, I made my way downstairs, stopping in the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. Breakfast just didn't sound too appealing right now. I needed the coffee to help me sustain what little energy I had. I sat at the island table, preferring the solitude of the kitchen to dining room. I sipped my coffee slowly, mentally preparing a list of things that needed to be done today.   
  
I needed to drop by my office at Animators, Inc to obtain additional files on the murders. I had no idea where to even start with that. Also, I wanted to stop by Vermillion Nights to check on Vega. It was the least I could do. Never mind I had this sneaking suspicion that he might be dead because he helped me. Christie said the master wouldn't be pleased. Why should I feel guilty, though? I didn't tell him to take the first step in making me a "human servant". I cringed at that term. Something about the pairing of the word "human" with the word "servant" didn't sit well with me.   
  
I guess I should be half-way thankful. If it hadn't been for Vega, I would be dead. I still didn't comprehend how close I came to dying. At the time, I was scared and knew I could possibly die, but a deeper part of me believed that I would not die. When I try to think about it now, it seems surreal as if it never happened. The dull throbbing of the bruises were enough to remind that it did happen, but it just felt like a reverie. Dreams that felt like reality and realities that felt like a dream. Sounds like some psychoneurotic logic to me.  
  
After I finished my coffee, I slipped to my classroom, preparing my last minute notes. One by one my students filed in. I started about the tedious task of teaching while keep my students awake. I paced around the class slowly. I was in the middle of my lecture when my head started throbbing. I leaned against my desk, closing my eyes.  
  
"Ms. Munroe, are you okay?" I heard Marie ask.  
  
I nodded slowly. "Yes, Marie, I am fine." My voice came out barely above a whisper and I grasped the edge of my desk tightly. Images of Vega flashed through my mind. No, this couldn't be happening. I couldn't make any coherent sense of what I was seeing. The pain and images subsided as quickly as they came. My heart was pounding in my chest. I hope this wasn't a side-effect of what happened last night. I regain my composure as the children stared at me curiously. "Can anyone tell me the name of the Inquisition general who was responsible for the inquisitorial procedure? He's credited with the execution of over 2,000 Spaniards…"  
  
  
  
It was just after sunset when I left the mansion. Logan and Scott were out tracking the teenage boy they mentioned earlier, and Jean and the Professor were entertaining the children. As for myself, I was busy tugging a long, black jacket over my double holster (complete with firepower). I slipped out the house driving solemnly to my destination. Animators, Inc was housed in a building with two real estate agents, a plastic surgeon, three psychologists, a marriage counselor, and five lawyers. Edmond had really stepped up in the world.   
  
Edmond Harris was the founding father of Animators Inc. He loved money and…well… more money. He wasn't ashamed to admit it either. There were three of us. Along with myself, there was Brad Wong and Matthew Stephens. All of us experienced in raising the dead. The pro-human groups called us an abomination to humankind because we raised the dead. Did they ever run out of things to complain about? I guess most of them would have to find real jobs if they didn't have us to persecute.   
  
I walked into the office. "Bonjour Ororo," Helena, another of our secretaries, chirped at me in her French lilt. Helena Douglas was barely 21 with long, blonde hair she usually kept braided and big, green eyes. She reminded me of a porcelain doll complete with the artificial naïveté. She only looked innocent, however. She had a sense of humor that was borderline crude, but you couldn't help loving her for it.   
  
I smiled warmly at Helena. "Hello, Helena. I'm just here to pick up some files." I said, walking toward my office.  
  
"Brad is using your office." Helena answered. There were only three offices. That was not an oversight on Edmond's part. He figured since I only worked weekends why should he waste the extra money. I was convinced that if someone cut Edmond, he would bleed silver dollars.   
  
"Do you know how long he's going to be?" I asked Helena.   
  
"He shouldn't be long. He is speaking to a mother and son. Her son wants to join The Church of Eternal Life." Helena said, dropping her voice an octave.   
  
Edmond didn't want to hire a real vampire expert, and he surely didn't want me counseling anyone about the advantages and disadvantages of vampires. Brad was the male version of Carmen. He loved our undead, and I'm sure he wouldn't have any qualms with betraying us to one of them. So, Edmond made Brad our resident "vampire expert".   
  
I shuddered at the thought of Brad counseling anyone about "The Church", as I branded it. The Church of Eternal Life was a vampire church that promised instant immortality. Unlike most churches, they could back this claim up immediately. You had to be at least 18 to join the congregation. I knew if this mother and son listened to Brad, the son would be one of them before sunrise. I sat patiently in the lobby, and a few minutes later, Brad emerged from the room with mother and son in tow.   
  
I stood up walking toward the three. "You should talk to a real expert. I recommend Frank Schubert; he can tell you the real truth behind vampires." I said flatly to the mother who looked like she just stepped out of Vogue magazine. Her son said nothing. He looked much younger than 18, but he had to be at least that old.   
  
Brad frowned at me while the woman eyed me cagily. "And who are you?" She asked, her voice full of posh arrogance.  
  
"I'm Ororo Munroe. Part-time animator. Part-time vampire hunter." I answered. I smiled at her for added effect. "I just want to make sure you and your son are making the right decision. You don't want him led astray because then he might meet his executioner." The word rolled off my lips slowly. The Executioner, it was part of who I was. My words were quickly melting her façade, even her son was looking at me fearfully. Brad steered them away from me, speaking hurried cajoling words and apologizing for my behavior.   
  
When the client was gone, Brad turned on me, the corner of his mouth twitching angrily. "Are you trying to ruin us, Ororo? For some of us, this is our only means of support." He said acidly.   
  
"You shouldn't tell those people what they want to hear, Brad. You should tell them the truth instead of sugar coating it for them." I said, not backing away from obvious fury.  
  
"Everyone doesn't harbor your resentment of vampires. What are you doing here, anyway?"   
  
There was no sense in arguing with Brad. He was set in his ways, and he believed vampires were our friends. "I came to pick up some files about the vampire murders I'm investigating." I answered.  
  
I heard Brad take in a disbelieving breath. "You're working for the vampires?"   
  
"Yes." I answered, looking away from him.   
  
"Why?" He asked incredulously. Everyone knew I wasn't fond of vampires, but now, I had to put my prejudices aside. My friend's life was on the line.   
  
"Money talks, Brad, even to me." I lied.   
  
"Bullshit. You don't care about money. Edmond was afraid you wouldn't even take the case, so he tried to get them to hire me. They insisted on having you. So, tell me why are you doing it?" His voice betrayed a little jealousy. I think he didn't like that I was the "popular" one. I was a marketing tool. Edmond thought the public would like to see a "pretty lady". When people called Animators, Inc, they asked for me by name. Edmond was still trying to get me to work weeknights to boost his pocketbook.  
  
"Something is out there killing master vampires, and I want to get to it before it decides that vampires aren't the only thing it wants to hurt." More half-truths. I didn't want whatever was out there hurting people, but that wasn't my main motivation.  
  
Brad started to respond, but the door opened behind me. "Ororo, there you are!" I heard an unfamiliar voice call to me. I turned around to see Jean-Paul—the vampire stripper from Vermillion Nights—standing in the doorway. The vampire that I threatened to kill, the one who had his throat nearly ripped out by an elder vampire, was addressing me. What the hell was he doing here?  
  
Jean-Paul stood lazily against the doorframe oozing of sex appeal and boyish charm. He looked as if he had just stepped out of a Gap catalogue. He wore an oversized, russet turtle neck and a pair of those boot-cut, dusted jeans that the younger crowd seemed to be into. They have that destroyed, dirty look that makes me wonder how that ever became a trend at all. Brown boots peeked from beneath the legs of his jeans. His dark, unruly hair was styled to cover his elflike ears; I guess the ears freaked some people out. He looked good, though, and he knew it.  
  
He seemed very human, and I'm sure that if I couldn't sense he was a vampire, I wouldn't have known. "Jean-Paul…" I stammered, feeling my face warm considerably when I realized I was staring. Brad looked from me to him, eyeing Jean-Paul with interest. Jean-Paul smiled at Brad, winking at him. Brad actually blushed at this display of attention from Jean-Paul.   
  
"Hello, Ororo," he answered as he walked into the office, studying the room.   
  
Helena cleared her throat, and I turned to look at her. She opened her eyes wide, indicating that she wanted to be introduced. I let out a sigh and said, "Jean-Paul, this is Helena Douglas." He sauntered over to the desk while giving Helena his most charming smile. He boldly grabbed one of her hands, bringing it to his lips slowly. Helena began to blush just as Brad had.   
  
"A pleasure to meet you." Helena breathed, batting her large, green eyes dramatically. Oh please, spare me.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine." He answered, and then, he uttered something French, which made the Helena's cheeks burn brighter. It was rare to see Helena blush.  
  
"And this is Brad Wong," I said interrupting the moment between the two. Jean-Paul turned and held out a hand to Brad. Brad slipped his hand in Jean-Paul's hand. I saw Jean-Paul caress Brad's hand like a lover. Brad—the self-proclaimed straightest man in America—blushed again, and let Jean-Paul stroke his hand. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a professional flirt on our hands. "This is my friend Jean-Paul Beaubier." I finished, pulling Jean-Paul away from Brad.  
  
"Your friend, huh?" Helena said, working her eyebrows up and down. Goddess, she thought I was sleeping with him. I guess she would from the way he was staring at me just then. He had this affectionate, familiar look in his eyes. He looked like doting puppy. It was sort of cute in a nauseating way.   
  
"I wasn't aware that Ororo had any… friends other than the people at the school she teaches at." Brad said, his cheeks were still a little flushed.   
  
Jean-Paul slipped an arm around my waist. "Ours is a complicated friendship," he answered. I could feel the blood draining from my face; he was playing right into their hands. I wanted to shake his arm off and show him the true meaning of "complicated", but I couldn't make a scene.   
  
"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to steer the discussion down a safer path.  
  
"I was dying to see you. I tried to call you first, but someone named Logan said you were gone." Jean-Paul answered, clasping one of my hands between his own. I fought the urge to pull away from him – horrified at the impression he was giving Helena and Brad. I found myself looking into his eyes. He had nice eyes. They were an exquisite shade of brown decorated with golden flecks. I wonder if he was trying to entice me with those eyes. It wasn't going to work, but he still had nice eyes. "We need to talk."  
  
"Okay," I answered when I saw something a hint of importance cloud his eyes. "Let me get my files, and we'll go somewhere we can talk." I quickly gathered my files, and Jean-Paul slid his hand in my own, keeping up that ridiculous ruse. I fought the urge to pick up a chair and throw it at him. I guess this was my payback for not letting him touch me at the club. Brad held the door open for us, grinning like an idiot.  
  
"You'll have to come back sometime, Jean-Paul." Brad said with a big smile, looking knowingly from Jean-Paul to me. I wanted to tell Brad that he just let another man practically seduce him. That would wipe that grin off his face, but I didn't. Instead, I bid Helena and Brad my farewells.   
  
I didn't speak to Jean-Paul as we walked down the hallway. One of the real estate agents walked by us. She did a double take when she saw us, and let me assure you, I wasn't the one she was staring after. I turned to stare at her, and she quickly averted her gaze. She walked into an office quickly when she realized that I was looking at her. I guess Jean-Paul was walking sex. I wonder if he was this appealing before he was turned.  
  
When we were safely in the elevator, I yanked my hand away from him. "Don't you ever do that again." I said calmly. I wasn't particular infuriated with him. I could tell he had something important that he needed to say. I just didn't appreciate him giving my coworkers the idea that we were lovers.  
  
He looked hurt that I'd scolded him. His face crumbled. He seemed so childish in that instant, and I wanted to apologize for hurting his feelings. But I don't apologize to vampires. "I'm sorry," he answered with that injured look still on his face.   
  
"What do you want? I know you said you needed to talk, but about what?" I asked, trying to ignore that hurt look. I could not allow myself to feel sympathy for Jean-Paul. That was preposterous. That was like a cat coddling a baby bird. It just wasn't right.  
  
His face fell more when I asked him that. He actually looked as if he might cry. I silently pleaded he didn't. Menacing vampires were one thing, crying vampires were another. I knew exactly what to do for a menacing vampire. "Vega hasn't returned." Jean-Paul said softly, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. 


	8. Chapter Eight

8.  
  
"Wait, what did you say?" I asked. I took a deep breath, trying to grasp what he just said. That surreal feeling was sneaking up on me again. I knew that Vega could have died. Sakura had enough power to destroy him and a whole legion of vampires like him, but I just didn't believe he would die. The thought of him being dead just didn't feel right. I leaned against the wall of the elevator.   
  
"Vega didn't return. Nobody's seen him, and I was wondering if you had." Jean-Paul reiterated, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
I shook my head once slowly. "I haven't seen him since early this morning, and I didn't dust him if that's what you think." I said, staring at him. Jean-Paul looked down at his shoes. He thought I killed Vega. That was a logical thought. I did kill vampires after all, but I had nothing to do with Vega's disappearance.   
  
"I didn't say you did," he replied. I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to say it. His implications spoke volumes. "Can you tell me what's happened to him? Is he all right?"  
  
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn't know what to tell him right then. I didn't know if Vega was all right or not. "I haven't eaten dinner yet. Do you want to join me? I'll tell you what I know there." I said. I would tell him what happened between Vega and Sakura, and then, he could base his conclusion on what I told him.  
  
Jean-Paul smiled despite the importance of the situation. "Dinner, eh? I knew you couldn't resist me." He said with a "you-know-I'm-sexy" tone of voice. He had a big, lopsided grin plastered to his face.   
  
"You wish." I chuckled despite myself. I wasn't going to let the fact that Vega might be dead depress me. I mean, what's one dead vampire? I had more important things to focus on, yet I still had that feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was just an upset stomach. Yeah, that's what I would let myself believe. It was more plausible than believing that I might be worried about Vega.   
  
"When I make wishes about you, I wish for more than just dinner." He said with a wink, holding the elevator door open. He allowed me to exit first. Can't say he didn't have manners.  
  
"You believe flirting will get you everywhere, don't you?" I asked as we walked out of the building. We stood on the empty sidewalk that was alive with people scurrying here and there.   
  
"Most people like it."  
  
"I'm not most people." I quipped.  
  
He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "So, where are we going?" He asked.  
  
I wanted to say somewhere that doesn't serve blood, but I bit back the statement. "Well, I usually go to the Cameli's, but I don't think we should be seen there together."   
  
"Ashamed?" He asked, voice betraying offense.  
  
"No, but we would have to keep up this act, and I just don't know if I have the energy." I answered, and he frowned at me. I definitely hurt his feelings. A sensitive vampire. Before tonight, I don't think I would have believed they existed. I let out a resigned sigh. "Let's go."  
  
"Where to?" He asked.  
  
"Cameli's." I was always the humanitarian even if he was part of the group I didn't particularly like. I tried to tell myself this about the principal of the matter and not the fact I felt sorry for him. Blame it on that compassionate side I can't seem to shake.  
  
His expression brightened considerably, and he beamed at me. It was one those smiles that could melt butter, sensuous and alluring. I believed the only way a woman (or a man for that fact) would be able to resist him would be through divine intervention. But for all his seductiveness, there was still something about him that screamed innocent. I think that's where the appeal came in. He appealed to the sexual side of people, but he also appealed to that nurturer side as well. That was a dangerous combination.  
  
We walked to Cameli's since it wasn't that far from the office. It was my favorite vegetarian restaurant, and I usually ate there when I was working or when I needed to get away. I remember bringing Logan to the restaurant once, and he'd been miffed to find out they didn't serve meat. Needless to say, he's never been back. I couldn't help smiling at the memory.   
  
We walked into the restaurant where I saw a waitress named Judy, a forty-ish waitress who reminded me of an aged beauty. She smiled when she saw me standing at the door. "Hello, Ororo," she said, and then looked at Jean-Paul. Here we go again. "Who's your friend?"  
  
"Hello, Judy. This is Jean-Paul." I said dryly. Jean-Paul turned up the smile, and Judy giggled. I suppressed a groan. I just wanted to get to a table without being attacked by a horny mob. Is that too much to ask for? I asked for a table in the back.   
  
Judy led us through what seemed like a gauntlet of people, and Jean-Paul reveled in it. There was a smile here, a "hello, beautiful" there with a couple of winks scattered. If Jean-Paul could not flirt for five minutes, I might consider that a small miracle. I ordered my Portobello Fresno, and Jean-Paul ordered water (as if he was going to actually drink it), telling Judy he was a meat and potatoes man. I snorted when he said that. He was more like a plasma and hemoglobin man.   
  
"What happened to Vega?" He asked once Judy brought us our beverages and left the table. He actually took a sip of the water. I raised an eyebrow at him. He must have felt the need to go through the motions.  
  
Judy came to the table again, sitting a plate before me. I thanked her and took a bite of my food. Jean-Paul didn't rush me, and I was almost tempted to ask him if he wanted some. He might have seen that as spiteful though, and truthfully, it might have been a little spiteful on my part. "He was fighting with Sakura when I last saw him." I said grimly, and then proceeded to give him the abridged version of what happened earlier.  
  
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "She could kill him." He said. He acted as if he were telling me something I didn't already know. I know she could kill him, and it didn't seem right that she—a psychotic vampire on a power trip—harbored all that power. "It's more likely she punished him, though."  
  
"And what does she consider just punishment?" I asked. I didn't know if I really wanted to know. Sakura seemed like the type who would go for the goriest type of punishment she could think of.   
  
"She usually nails a cross to their coffins, trapping them inside. She's the reason Triage is so crazy. She trapped him in his coffin for four months." He paused to take another sip of the water. The punishment wasn't as gory as I expected, but it was still bad enough. "Do you know how insane that could make a person?" He said bleakly. No, I didn't, but the thought of Vega going crazy was scary. The thought of him being enclosed in that tight coffin was even scarier.   
  
I opened the folder with the file with the details of the murders; I needed to do something to get my mind off what Jean-Paul just said. Looking for potential clues wasn't a bad way to distract myself. "What are you going to do?" Jean-Paul asked. I wondered if he was asking me what was I going to do about Vega or what was I going to do about these murders. I chose the latter over the former. He should know there's nothing I can do for Vega even if I wanted to.  
  
"I'm going to talk to someone close to the first victim." I said, looking over a file for a Jennifer Portman. She was the girlfriend of a now deceased vampire named Edward Hansen.   
  
"Maybe I can help." Jean-Paul said as he tried to look at my files. I wanted to tell him not to worry his pretty, little head over these murders, but he might be useful.   
  
"Do you know a Jennifer Portman?" I asked.   
  
"Yeah, she was Edward's property before he was killed," he said without much show of emotion. She was someone's property. I didn't even want to ask what he meant by "property". What a nice way to regard someone. Suddenly the term "human servant" didn't seem so insulting. At least, I wasn't being treated like real estate. "Is that where we're going?"  
  
"We're not going anywhere, but I am going to Jennifer Portman's."  
  
"Then, I'm going too." He said with a childlike stubbornness.  
  
"Do you even know how to fight or defend yourself in any way? I know you could probably bench press a car, but… I've seen you…" I couldn't finish. Jean-Paul was a victim. He was used to violence, but only as another's prey. Then again, the most he probably had to worry about right now was being molested by every person in the city.   
  
He didn't meet my eyes, but I knew he knew what I was thinking without trying to get in my head. "I can handle myself," he said quietly. Somehow, I doubted that. "But how do you even expect to get Jennifer to talk to you of all people."  
  
He had a point. "If you're going to come with me, let me make one thing clear. I know how to do my job, and I do it well. If I'm threatened, don't try to charge in and save me." I knew I was being a little abrasive, but the last thing I needed was for him to jeopardize this case. Jean-Paul nodded slowly.   
  
We sat in silence for a moment. I stared idly toward the door, thinking. My jaw clenched when I saw a familiar figure walking our way. Oh, it was not. Yes, it was him. I cannot believe of all the places he could've brought his new girlfriend he chose this restaurant. I looked at Jean-Paul, and he stared back at me quizzically. I dropped my eyes and quickly became interested in my food. Please, let him just walk by. Please, don't let him see me. Goddess, just let me get out of here without embarrassing myself.  
  
"Hello, Ororo," I heard a deep voice say, and I reluctantly looked up into the face of the man I thought I wanted to spend forever with. He was still as handsome as I remembered him. He smiled at me captivatingly, and I felt my legs part involuntarily. His smile always had that effect on me. You'd think I'd be over that by now. I mentally willed him away, but it didn't work. It's times like these when I wished I had telekinetic powers. Wouldn't it be funny if you could make the dessert tray ram into your ex? Well, I thought it was funny.   
  
I smiled weakly at him. "Hello, Forge. How are you?" I asked. I hadn't really meant to ask him that. It's just one of those formalities you say out of habit rather than because you're really interested. I was happier thinking he was miserable without me, but judging from the busty redhead that was clinging to his arm, he wasn't. Son of a bitch. Excuse my bitterness. I think people see me as so untouchable they forget that, yes, I do have feelings. Yes, I was capable of being jealous, and right now, I was smoldering in it.   
  
The air was getting extremely thick in the restaurant. I needed to get out of here.  
  
"I'm fine," he answered. "How about yourself? Still putting your life on hold for everyone else?" He asked. I didn't think he meant any intentional malice, but just the same, it made me wince.   
  
Forge didn't fall in the "power hungry" category or the "wants to get in my goody basket" category. He was in a category of his own. He was intelligent, caring, dedicated, passionate – everything I wanted in a man. He knew exactly what I needed after a long day whether it was a massage or something more. Like all good things, that relationship came to an end.   
  
He felt he had to compete with too many of my "other priorities", and truthfully, he probably had. I could never make him the main focus in my life. Too many people needed me, and I would've felt selfish dedicating most of my time to him. He felt that he wasn't as important in my life as I was in his. I became less of a woman more of a sacrosanct deity in his eyes. I hated that, but I could do nothing to change that now.  
  
In retrospect, he might be the reason I was scared to get into another relationship. I blamed it on all the worthless men in the today's world, but maybe, I didn't really want to work at a relationship. I hated to love and lose. I didn't know how to love with only half my heart. I tried to love with all my heart. "I'm fine as well, and yes, I'm still dedicating my life to others."  
  
"Always the workaholic. When are you going to take some time out for yourself?" He asked, and I shifted in my seat awkwardly. This was uncomfortable. He had to know that this was making me feel strange. I mean, how could he not know? I didn't want to talk about me anymore. He didn't see me asking him any infuriating questions.   
  
I heard Jean-Paul clear his throat, and I was actually grateful for his presence. "Oh, where are my manners? Forge, this is my friend, Jean-Paul." I said casually. Jean-Paul stuck out a hand. Forge eyed him as if he were seeing him for the first time. I could see a cool indifference flicker in his eyes for a moment, and then he shook Jean-Paul's hand.   
  
Then, Forge introduced his friend. Her name was Mindy. Classic. After a few more minutes of gauche chat, Forge invited us to join them for dinner. Oh, hell no. "Oh, we're about to leave," I said as nicely as possible. I couldn't get Judy's attention fast enough. I paid my tab, left a tip, and left as quickly as I could.   
  
"Ex-boyfriend?" Jean-Paul asked when we were safely in the car. I glared at him, and he shut up.   
  
  
  
Jennifer Portman lived in a dingy apartment complex in a rough part of the city. The next street over was lined with posh socialites, but did they lend a hand to fellow neighbors? If the blinking hallway lights, the nearly broken elevator, and the bad plumbing were any indications of what the socialites did for these people, I would be inclined to say no. I bet most of those lawyers and doctors didn't even know this street existed. I shook my head.   
  
Jean-Paul knocked on the door while I continued to look around at the dire condition of the place. A few minutes later, a door opened and a small woman looked out. There were a matching set of bags under her eyes, and she was obviously exhausted. I almost felt sorry for bothering her. "Jean-Paul, what brings you here?"  
  
"Can I come in?" He asked.  
  
"Yeah," she said, opening the door wide. Jean-Paul walked into the apartment, and I followed behind him. He was supposed to keep the waters calm when she found out who I was.   
  
"You brought a friend." She said blinking at me. I studied the woman, committing her physical details to memory. She was about my height and age. She had long, dark hair that fell in limp ripples around her shoulder. Cerulean eyes stared at me. She had a frail appearance to her. It made you want to wrap her in your arms and promise she would be okay.  
  
"Yes, this is Ororo Munroe," he said nonchalantly as if we had known each other all our lives.  
  
"The vampire hunter?"  
  
"Yes, but…" He didn't get a chance to finish his statement as she hissed at me and flung her petite body at me. She started scratching and slapping at me. I held my arms up in defense. My first instinct was to plant my foot in the pit of her stomach and send her sprawling across the room. Instead, I grabbed her wrists, wrestling her to the ground. I pinned her arms with my knees and put a forearm against her throat. I didn't want to hurt her, and she hadn't hurt me. Most of the children had hit harder than she did.   
  
She whimpered beneath me. "You can't kill him!" She wailed, tears beginning to course down her face.  
  
"I'm not here to kill anyone." I said, releasing her. I stood, and she sat up quickly, hugging her knees. I think she realized that she couldn't out power me.   
  
"Please…" She whispered.   
  
"Jean-Paul, do something." I demanded. This was his main reason for being here. I knew that if he didn't do something, this woman was going to go into hysterics. Jean-Paul kneeled beside Jennifer and started talking to her softly. I couldn't hear what he said, but she was nodding. I hoped that was a good sign.   
  
I walked to a small door that led to a bedroom. I know. I know. I shouldn't be walking around some strange person's house, but I was trying to find a bathroom. There was a coffin by the bed. Her new lover—the 'him' she didn't want me to kill. I walked through the bedroom and found a bathroom. I wet a washcloth and took it back to the living room, handing it to Jean Paul. He put the cloth to her neck.   
  
"I reassured her that you were not going to hurt Jack." Jean-Paul said. Jack in the box. That was the first thought that crossed my mind. I would've smiled too if it hadn't seemed so inappropriate.  
  
"Jennifer, I'm trying to apprehend whatever it is that killed your boyfriend. I would appreciate any help you could give me." I said kindly. She looked at me suspiciously.   
  
"Why are you working for them? Everyone knows you hate vampires." Jennifer said through sniffles.   
  
"Have you ever met the strongest master of this city?" I asked her, and she shook her head. "Trust me when I say this. She's so powerful she even scares me. I'm only human after all. She wants me to find whatever this is killing the vampires, and I'm going to do it. So anything you can tell me would be a big help."  
  
She still looked at me suspiciously, but she didn't ask me any more questions. "We were at a freak party the night he died." Jennifer said. I knew a freak was someone who liked vampires, but I didn't know anything about a "freak party". I would ask Jean-Paul about that later.  
  
"Did anything out of the ordinary happen at this party?" I asked.  
  
"No," she answered meekly.   
  
"Were there any people there who didn't like Paul? Did he have any enemies in general?"  
  
"No, not that I know of," she said. She was shaking now, and I couldn't bring myself to badger her. No matter what this woman thought of me, I wasn't the fiend she made me out to be.   
  
"Thank you, Jennifer. I appreciate your help." I said, and she nodded. This almost seemed like a waste of my time. In fact, it would've have been if she hadn't mentioned the freak party.  
  
Jean-Paul helped her back to her bedroom. She leaned on him heavily as if she were lame. I couldn't help feeling that I may have been some of the reason for that. I hadn't meant to scare the woman. I hadn't actually done anything to her, but of course, my reputation precedes me. If I were a civilian, especially one that liked vampires, I would be pretty afraid of myself as well.  
  
Jean-Paul and I didn't talk until we were back in the car. I got this distinct feeling that something was bothering him. Maybe, it was me, but if it was, he had to remember that he invited himself. "What is a freak party? Is it what I'm thinking it is?" I asked, filling the empty silence in the car. I was thinking it was something like a huge orgy with vampires. I hope I was wrong in thinking so.  
  
"You can have any vampire any way you want at these parties. Same goes for humans." He said flatly. It was exactly what I thought it was. "I use to go to them a lot, but I got tired of being a piece of meat. I don't want to end up like Jennifer or worse."  
  
I didn't want him to elaborate. "Did any of the other vampires murdered attend these parties?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah, I know that one of them did. I could check around and find out if the others did as well. Could you drop me off at the club?"  
  
"Vermillion Nights?" I asked. I don't know why I asked him that. What other club could he be talking about?  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What about your car?"  
  
"I don't drive. Carmen dropped me off."  
  
I bristled at the mention of the name. I hadn't thought about her much since that night at the club, but her name still invoked a rage. "Oh, did she now?" I said acidly.   
  
"Why are you so mad at Carmen?" He asked. I wondered if he was blind or just plain stupid. Carmen was the whole reason I was in this mess in the first place.   
  
I clenched my jaw tightly. "She betrayed me and put someone she called a friend in potential danger. I expect deceitfulness from vampires. No offense."  
  
"None taken. So loyalty and friendship mean a lot to you."  
  
They were two of the most important things in my life. It was something I learned when I first joined the X-Men. Always be loyal to your friends; they're the ones you're going to need in your life. I didn't know if he would understand that, so I simply said, "Yes."  
  
"And if a person is your friend, you would do anything for them?" He asked.  
  
"Yes… almost… even I have my limits with friendship…" I trailed off. I would do anything for my friends as long as it wasn't intentionally destructive. I wouldn't do it if it was unintentionally destructive, but I don't think my friends would ever put me in a situation that called for me to do something I think was wrong.   
  
"You know she's afraid of you. Every time your name is mentioned she pales." He sounded as if he were reprimanding me. I guess threatening the vampires' lapdog wasn't too nice.   
  
"Good. I hope she sees my face in her nightmares. I don't make idle threats, and if anything happens to Jean, well, I plan on making Carmen's life a living hell." I said in a scathing tone.  
  
He was quiet for a moment. "Did you really threaten to kill her?"  
  
"In so many words."   
  
"What would you do to her?" He asked. He was like a curious kid. Did the questions ever stop coming?   
  
"Let's just cutting her heart out would be my preferred death of choice, but there are other ways." There was no sense in sugar coating the truth. I didn't like the woman, and I wasn't about to hold back my feelings for her because she was everyone's favorite vampire lover.  
  
"Remind me to never get on your bad side." He chuckled. He ran his hair through his hair, pulling his hair away from his ears. A gold loop adorned the top of his visible ear. I hadn't noticed that at the club.  
  
"Why do you hide your ears?" I asked, not wanting to talk about Carmen anymore.   
  
"I think you know, Ororo." He said, ruefully.   
  
Yes, I did know. I knew he had to hide them from the normals. They didn't like mutants or vampires, and they didn't like looking at anything that reminded them that we were here. "Yeah, I do, but I think they're charming." I said, trying to sound upbeat.  
  
"Is that a compliment?"  
  
I shrugged. "Take it as you want."  
  
"I was like you once. Still am." He said after a brief pause.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I was a mutant before I was turned. I still am I think. I haven't really tried to use my power since I've been turned. My adopted mother use to call me her north star." He got a faraway look in his eyes, and even though I was curious about the effect of vampirism on mutants, I decided not to ask. It seemed like it would be a touchy subject.  
  
I stopped in front of the club and Jean-Paul prepared to get out. "I need to go to one of those parties." I said suddenly.   
  
"You don't want to go to one of those parties." He was already shaking his head. I wasn't trying to go to one of these parties because I wanted to have a good time. I doubt I would enjoy something like that.  
  
"No, I don't want to, but I need to."  
  
"There's one coming up soon. If you want to go, I'll have to take you. I'll contact you with the details."  
  
"I'll give you my pager number too in case I'm not reachable at the school." I wrote my pager number down on a small scrap of paper and handed it to him. I pulled away after he got out of the car.   
  
What the hell was I doing? I didn't know if I could even trust Jean-Paul. He let vampires—his own kind—bite him. He was a vampire junkie, and he was a vampire. There's something wrong with that picture. I needed information on Jean Paul, and there was only one person I knew would have the sort of information I needed.   
  
  
  
Phil's Place was a bar near the vampire district run by a guy named Phil. He used to be a cop until a vampire turned him. He was kicked off the force when it was finally revealed that he'd been turn. The force was his life. He took the phrase "to serve and protect" quite seriously. Now, he holds a grudge again the cops of this city. That's where I came in. He was always willing to give me information. So, he got to help the cops all while holding his grudge against them. If anyone knew anything worth knowing, it was Phil. Or rather, I should say Phil and Cecilia.   
  
Cecilia Reyes was a mutant who worked for Phil; she was paying her way through college. She wanted to be a doctor. Whatever Phil knows, Cecilia knows. I thought Phil might've had a soft spot for the feisty Puerto Rican girl. The professor tried to recruit her once, but she told him this world needed another doctor not another superhero. Phil once told me she wanted to be a doctor because her own father had died when he didn't receive proper medical care. I had to admire her drive to succeed.  
  
The bar was still rather empty. It was dark, but it was still too early for the serious drinkers. Cecilia was behind the bar, cleaning out glasses. I sat down at the bar, and she nodded at me. She set a glass of water in front of me – my usual. "Whatcha know good?" She asked me, leaning against the counter.  
  
I smiled at her. "I was just about to as you the same thing. I need information, Cee. Is Phil around?"  
  
She shook her head and said, "Naw, he's out, but you know I can help you."   
  
"Do you know anything about a vampire named Jean-Paul Beaubier?"  
  
She tapped a finger against her chin for a few seconds. "Yeah, he's that stripper down at Vermillion Nights. Heard he's vampire junkie and was turned by that mean, undead motherfucker Valiant." Valiant Kessler was one mean vampire. He was suspected in over 100 murders in the city. Too bad they couldn't prove it. He preyed on children, and I was afraid one day he might even get hands on one of the children from the school.   
  
"Can Jean-Paul be trusted?" I asked, and Cecilia snorted at me.  
  
"Hell, 'Ro. He's a junkie, and just like with any other junkie you need to be on your guard with him. Why do you ask?" She quizzed. I briefly told her why I needed to know. When I finished talking she said, "You better be careful. He would probably betray you in a blink of an eye."  
  
"You're probably right, but he's my only means of getting into that party." I mused. "Have you heard anything about the murders?"  
  
Cecilia leaned in real close to me, looking around suspiciously at the few patrons in the bar. "I heard the Humans Against Vampires have a death squad." She whispered. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. She pulled away from me then while I digested the information she gave me. Cecilia refilled a man's drink at the end of the bar.  
  
Most of the members of HAV were the same people who made up the membership of Humans against Wereanimals and Friends of Humanity. Like I said, if it wasn't for mutants and night creatures, they would have to go out and find real jobs. They were known for their disorganized, violent activities, but now, they had a death squad. They were getting smarter by the minute. What happened when they wiped out all the vampires? Where mutants next?   
  
I was jumping to conclusions. I didn't even know if the death squad was behind this. I put a hefty tip in Cecilia's tip jar. I stood to walk away, but Cecilia grabbed my hand. "'Ro, don't do this on your own, girl. Let someone help you. I know there has to be someone you can trust. Your friends for example," she said quietly.  
  
"No, I've already gotten one friend in too deep. I don't need to get the others in." I answered, thinking about how Logan had offered to help me. I still hadn't answered him, and I was hoping that he'd forgotten.  
  
"When are you going to stop being so stubborn and learn to trust your friends?" Cecilia asked.  
  
"I do trust my friends, but I care for them too much to get them involved in this." I answered. Cecilia nodded in a gesture of understanding and turned away from me.   
  
I walked out the door of the bar. I guess I could go back to the mansion and look over these files thoroughly hoping more clues jumped out at me. Hopefully, Jean-Paul would get in touch with me soon. Those parties were my only clue right now. "I ain't took yo' wallet!" I heard a voice tinged with a Cajun accent yelling out into the night.   
  
Ahead of me a burly looking guy was shaking a tall, lanky boy. In the lights of the parking lot he looked around 17. The boy was poorly dressed. He was probably one of the many homeless children that roamed these streets. A wallet fell on the ground, and the man stooped to retrieve it while keeping a firm grip on the child. The man stood again and starting shaking the kid again.   
  
"Didn't take my wallet, huh, kid? How do you explain this?" He thrust the wallet in the boy's face. I watched in horror as the man raised one meaty fist and hit the boy in the face. The boy fell with an audible groan. He stalked over the boy and raised one foot threateningly.   
  
"Hey! Why don't you leave him alone!" I commanded, running over to the scene, putting myself between the man and the boy. He eyed me coolly.   
  
"Look lady, this don't have nothing to do with you. It's between me and that Cajun trash right there." He pointed at the boy who was still on the ground clutching his face. He didn't make a move to get around me though. I know he wasn't afraid me. He couldn't be. He towered over me, but maybe he had reserves about hitting women. I was hoping he did. If he hit me, I would be forced to defend myself. The outcome might not be too pretty.   
  
"Look at him. He's just a kid." I said in my most reasoning tone.   
  
He looked from me to the boy, and then waved a dismissive hand at the boy and me. "He ain't worth the trouble anyway. Go ahead. Help him; just make sure you still got your wallet when he leaves. And if I ever catch him again, believe me lady, I'm not going to go easy on him 'cause he's a punk kid."   
  
The man walked away from us, entering the bar. I let out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. "Are you all right?" I asked the boy, kneeling beside him.   
  
"Please, lemme go. Don' call da cops. I was jus' hungry," he started explaining. I knew how he felt. After my parents were killed, I'd done the same thing many times. You did what you had to do to survive, and unfortunately, when you didn't have anyone, that usually meant stealing.   
  
"It's okay. I'm not going to call the police." I said softly. I touched the boy's shoulder. He looked up at me and I noticed his eyes were a strange color – black on red. I must've left out a gasp because the boy frowned at me.   
  
"I say lemme go!" He yelled, jerking away from me. He hopped from the ground swiftly as if the man never hit him; he ran across the parking lot. I chased him of course. It might have not been the smartest thing I've ever done, but I did want to help the boy. The boy was fast, but I somehow managed to keep a few paces behind him. The chase led to a cluttered alley.  
  
"Wait! I can help you!" I called after him.   
  
I saw the boy pause shortly, and I thought he might actually let me talk to him. He stood there for a moment, and I slowed my paced. Suddenly, he turned and I saw his hands move swiftly. I didn't see whatever it was he threw at me, but I heard it as it went whizzing past my face in a pink blur, heat grazing the side of my face. The object hit a row of garbage cans behind me. I screamed and fell to my knees as they blew up, spewing trash everywhere – including on me.  
  
The boy was long gone by the time I realized I was still alive. This is where I should have screamed a well-deserved expletive, but I was running a little low on them in recent days. I stood up slowly, pulling Goddess knows what from my hair and clothing. Well, if I hadn't been planning to go back to the mansion, this encounter would have changed that. That must be the kid that Scott and Logan were looking for. The boy sure knew how to make an impact, and I meant that literally.  
  
  
  
I tried to be quiet as possible when I entered the mansion. It seems as if I was always trying to sneak into the mansion these days, and I was always being caught like defiant teen. If fate was on my side tonight, I would be able to get to my room without having to explain what happened.  
  
"What happened to you?" Jean asked when I entered the mansion. She was walking into the rec room with a bowl of popcorn. Scott and Logan walked out of the rec room at Jean's question. Damn, there went my hopes of having a stealthy entrance. Things never went as planned Logan screwed up his nose at me. Thanks a lot, pal. It's nice to know you think I reek. I guess I couldn't be too mad. I did reek.   
  
"Let's just say I helped a kid out, and he repaid me by blowing up the garbage cans. I knew there was a reason I loved my job." I said sarcastically.   
  
"Sounds like the same kid we've been trying to track down." Logan grumbled. Logan actually sounded a little bitter when he said this. I wondered what the kid did to him. It couldn't have been half as bad as what he did to me.   
  
I smiled at Logan. "When you catch him…" I trailed off as a pain ripped through my head.  
  
"'Ro, what's wrong?" I heard Logan ask with concern edging his voice.   
  
"I'm fine. I just have a headache. Excuse me," I said, hastily making my way toward the stairs. I paused on the first step, gripping the banister tightly. My head was pounding again, the illogical images raged through my mind again. Intense pain threatened to send me crashing to my knees. I closed my eyes, grabbing my head.   
  
I could feel myself slumping, but there was nothing I could do about it. I could dimly hear the others asking what was wrong, but I was unable to answer. I was falling deeper into this darkness. I had the odd sensation of floating. Even though I tried to fight it, for the second time in twenty-four hours, everything went black.


	9. Chapter Nine

9.  
  
I didn't open my eyes immediately when I finally regained consciousness. The pain had subsided, but there was still this dull throbbing that served as a reminder of the pain. I could only hope that it didn't turn into another burning headache. I didn't know what was going on, but if someone—or something—was in my head, I wanted it out… now.   
  
_Can you hear me, Ororo?_  
  
"Yes, Jean. Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?" I answered aloud, opening my eyes. I looked around. Jean and I were alone in my room. She was sitting at my side, holding my hand tenderly. Worry lines crinkled in her forehead.   
  
"I tried to probe your mind to see if you were being attacked psychically when you blacked out, and I couldn't. I have to confess I've been trying all day since you woke from the dream. You sent out a mental distress signal, but I wasn't able to get through. Then, when I came in your room, you told me you were fine, and you looked okay. But I couldn't shrug off that feeling…" She said.   
  
I smiled slightly. That Jean was a real kidder. Why was I the only one smiling here? When someone made a joke, it was customary that they laugh along with you. So, why wasn't Jean laughing? "You're kidding, right?" I asked, still smiling, and Jean shook her head. My smile slowly began to evaporate. She wasn't kidding.   
  
"It happened again during one of my classes. This time the signal was more intense – even painful. Rogue and Jubilee came to see me later and told me what happened in your class. I went to talk to the Professor, and he said he got the same signal from you. He tried to speak with you telepathically, but he was unable to," she continued, a grim expression still on her face.  
  
"Do you know why?" I asked barely above a whisper. I didn't know if I wanted to know why they weren't able to get through. It was a disturbing thought knowing the Professor hadn't been able to get through. He's one of the most—if not the most—powerful telepaths to grace this planet. What could be so strong it even kept him out?   
  
"Somebody has placed some pretty strong psi barriers around your mind. When you didn't act any differently, the professor and I decided that it was best if we just tried to break the barriers without your knowledge. We didn't want to alarm you." Jean chewed on her lip after that last statement.   
  
They didn't want to alarm me. This was my head we were talking about here, but I couldn't be mad at Jean or the Professor. They were only trying to help. "Keep going." I commanded.  
  
"They became stronger while you were out. I couldn't bypass them, and even the professor had a hard time breaking the barriers that were protecting your mind." Jean said quietly.  
  
"Did the Professor get through?" I asked. I was afraid that he might have seen something that I didn't want him too such as the truth about what happened to Jean, but I knew it was important that he got through.   
  
"He got through, but he couldn't make sense of what was happening to your mind. He's not sure if whatever was there is completely gone, and…" Jean trailed off, looking away from me. I could sense a sort of apprehension build in her, and my heart thumped wildly at the thought of whatever she was reluctant to tell me.  
  
"And what?"   
  
"The weather went haywire while you were unconscious. Whatever was happening in your mind was causing you to react through the weather. Do you remember what you were seeing?"  
  
"No, I don't remember seeing anything." I said, shaking my head. I didn't remember seeing any images after I blacked out. Everything was just that – black. I remember seeing a wave of images before I lost consciousness, but nothing that made any sense.   
  
One thing was for sure. I couldn't keep having too many of these headaches if they were causing me to manipulate the weather in my unconscious state. That was dangerous. I could lose control, and… well… I didn't want to think about what might happen if I did.  
  
Now, I was trying to absorb the information that Jean was feeding me. She was confirming my fear – there was someone in my head. Wasn't that just the icing on the cake? "Did the professor say who or what he thought it was?" I asked.   
  
"No," she responded with a defeated tone of voice. I looked into her eyes, and her fear mirrored my own. Whatever had "attacked" me could still be present, and it could be building those psi barriers back up. It was the greatest feeling in the world knowing that I had no control when it came to what happened to, and in, my mind. Insert bitter, sarcastic laugh by me here. I thought about Sakura, and I wondered if this was her doing. "But, we're not going to give up, Ororo."  
  
Her grip on my hand tightened, and I used my free hand to cover hers. "Thank you, friend," I whispered.   
  
"Now, tell me about these bruised knuckles," she said, inspecting my hands.   
  
I'd forgotten all about those, but it wasn't as if I could exactly hide them while I was unconscious. I thought about telling her that I got them when the boy blew up the trashcans, but Jean was a doctor. She would be able to tell that weren't that fresh. "I got them while I was working last night." That was not a lie; I was working – technically.   
  
"What the hell were you doing, Ororo? Fighting a bear?" Jean asked. I wondered if mentally battling thousand-year-old vampires counted in that "fighting a bear" category. Sakura wasn't a bear, but she was strong as a damn bear – stronger even.   
  
"No, things just got a little rough last night. I'm okay." I said calmly. She would've freaked if she saw the bruises on my ribs.   
  
They actually weren't all that bad. I was still sore, but they had faded significantly while I slept. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I have Vega to thank for that. Seems like I was thanking him for a lot these days, but at the same time, I couldn't help being angry with him for getting me in such a tight spot.   
  
"Why didn't you let me to look at them?"  
  
"I didn't come home until really early this morning, and I didn't want to wake you. They're not that bad, anyway." I said. I didn't want her to keep prying. Jean wasn't dumb by a long shot, and I knew soon she would start to piece things together on her own. "Could you excuse me for a little while Jean? I want to take a shower. I still smell like somebody's left over dinner."  
  
She smiled a little and said, "Okay, you're trying to get rid of me. I can take a hint. Before I leave, I want to say this, though. I don't know what's going on with you, Ororo, but I'm your friend, and you don't have to be afraid to ask for my help."   
  
She was already involved more than she knew. "Thank you, Jean. I know you would help me, but there is nothing wrong." I said with a reassuring tone. I could handle this on my own, or at least, I hope I could. I hated the thought of bringing in more people.   
  
When Jean left, I retreated to the bathroom. I couldn't get out of my clothing fast enough. Lighting my candles and filling my bathtub to the rim, I let out a sigh as I submerged myself into the water. I closed my eyes, letting my head rest on edge of the tub. Nothing like a warm bath to put things in perspective. I could feel the tension leaving my shoulders. I'd waited too long for this moment; I wanted to enjoy it.  
  
I nearly nodded off in the warm, inviting waters of the bath, and I would have willingly given myself to its call if I hadn't heard a voice calling me. "Ororo…" The voice was like a cool breeze, chilling me to my very core. I opened my eyes quickly, looking around the bathroom. He couldn't be here. It was impossible. "Ororo…" The candles actually flickered, and I sank lower in the tub as if the water was going to protect me from him.   
  
"Vega?" I whispered looking around the bathroom. This was ridiculous; I was alone. The bathroom was completely empty – or at least, I thought it was. I was just hearing things. It had been a hectic few days. I was just suffering from stress. I hadn't yet come up with a valid reason why the candles would be flickering. I froze as the flames of each candle flickered and died, leaving the bathroom dark. Bright Lady, protect me.   
  
The muscles in my stomach constricted painfully as two green flames appeared before me—his eyes—just like in the dream. They started to descend toward me, and I held my hands up in defense. "Please, no, you can't do this to me." I don't know exactly what it was that I was asking him not to do to me. All I knew was that it wasn't working. I could feel those liquid flames consuming me inside and out. I wanted to scream out, but I couldn't. It wasn't painful, but at the same time, I knew I didn't want this. However, I couldn't help giving in to the feelings it was producing.  
  
"No…" I moaned as the heavenly sensations ravished my body. I could feel my eyelids closing as if someone were coaxing me to sleep. I fought to keep my eyes open, but I was fighting a losing battle. No, I could not allow this; I could now allow him to possess my body. I continued to struggle to open my eyes…   
  
"No!" I sat up abruptly in the tub, my eyes opening. I looked around confused, touching my skin. The candles were illuminating the bathroom. There were no green flames swimming before me. I sigh relieved; I had dozed off. It was all just another one of those dreams. It hadn't felt like a dream. I could've sworn I was awake and cognizant, but apparently, I had fallen asleep in the tub. I wasted no time finishing my bath. I no longer felt safe there. Could I feel safe anywhere?   
  
I wrapped myself in my large bathrobe once I got out the bathtub, fleeing to my room where Logan was waiting for me. "Are you feelin' alright, 'Ro?" Logan asked. He was eyeing me as if he were looking for signs that might betray that I wasn't feeling okay. I wasn't okay, but I was feeling okay right now – despite the dream.   
  
"As right as rain," I answered, leaning against the wall. "Did they tell you what was happening?"  
  
Logan nodded and said, "Yeah, there was a lot of technical talk about psi barriers and psychic attacks, but I took it to mean that someone decided to take up residence in your head." That's another thing you had to like about Logan. He could put methodological jargon in layman's terms. "Any idea who that someone might be?"  
  
I shook my head, averting my eyes elsewhere. I did have an idea or two of who it might be. "I don't know." I said.  
  
"I think you do know."  
  
"I think you're right." I said before I could stop the words from coming. Too late to stop now. "I think one of the city's master vampires is playing mind games with me." I didn't mention whether I thought that vampire might be Sakura or Vega – maybe both. I hadn't even told him about Vega. I just couldn't bring myself to; it seemed too personal.   
  
"You need to tell the Professor–"   
  
"I can't tell him about this." I snapped, not really meaning to. Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise probably at the vehemence in my voice. "I'm trying to keep as many people out of this as I can. That includes you. It's already a tough situation without endangering everyone I care about."  
  
I was serious about that. I didn't want to bring any more people into this. I know that he wanted to help, but I could not allow him to be part of this.  
  
"But you need to let the Professor and Jean know what they're up against," he insisted, and I shook my head. "There's more to this than you're tellin' me. You said the vampires wouldn't out you about being a mutant if you didn't tell anyone where they rested. That's an even trade. Why are they attackin' your mind? Shouldn't they be afraid that you would reveal their location? If I were a vampire that slept there, I'd be kissin' your goddamn feet instead of tryin' to drive you crazy."  
  
"You are right, Logan. There's more than you realize at stake here, but I cannot disclose that information to you at this time." I crossed my arms for emphasis. Hopefully, I would never have to reveal that information to him.   
  
"So, now, you're gettin' all professional on me." He huffed at me.   
  
"I don't mean to be cold, but…" I closed my eyes, as a nauseous feeling began to overtake me, rubbing a hand across my forehead. I could see them again—the flames, his eyes—behind my closed lids. They were penetrating my very soul, warming me. I leaned against the wall, fearful that my legs might give under me. I felt a firm hand grip my elbow and lead me to the bed.   
  
I opened my eyes slowly. A verdigris shade tinted the color of the room, and I looked at Logan fearfully, as I sat on the bed. "Your eyes, they're some freaky green color," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. No, I did not want to hear him say that. I looked away from him, closing my eyes tightly, willing it—him—away. I felt Logan cup my chin gently and turn my face back toward him. "Open your eyes, 'Ro." He said.  
  
I opened one eye and was relieved to see that everything looked normal. I opened my other eye and stared into Logan's eyes. He was still cupping my chin. My heartbeat sped up a little from the physical proximity between us. He pulled my face close to his own, inspecting my eyes. He seemed to pause for a moment, and I wondered if it was from the signals that my body was sending out.   
  
He continued to search my eyes for a moment, as if looking for some kind of sign. My pulse was throbbing almost painfully now as we held each other's gaze. I got this odd feeling that he might kiss me, not that I would have stopped him. "They're back to their normal color now." Logan said, pulling away from me. Disappointment washed over me, but I could have been reading his actions wrong. He looked at me expectantly.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
He let out an agitated sigh. "I would like to know what's goin' on here. Things just keep gettin' stranger."  
  
I shrugged, trying to appear as blasé as possible. "There's nothing going on." Truthfully, I really didn't know what was going on. All I knew is that something just transpired between Vega and me, but I wasn't sure what it was.   
  
"Nothing going on? You're skippin' around this city doing the bidding of some vampires, you fainted from some kind of psychic attack, and now, you're eyes just turned green. And you expect me to believe there's nothin' wrong?"  
  
"I don't understand what's going on if that makes you feel any better."   
  
"But you do know what's goin' on?" He was probing. I hated when he did that. I always felt obligated to answer.  
  
"Somewhat," I ran a nervous hand through my damp hair. "I mean, it's all rather confusing. I'm only getting half the story myself."  
  
"Care to fill me in."  
  
"No. It's actually kind of personal in some regards. I'm sure it's not the type of information that I should go telling everyone about." I said, sheepishly. It just didn't seem wise to tell him that something was happening between a certain master vampire and me. I don't think Logan would quite understand the whole human servant bit. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I understood it.  
  
"In other words, you're tellin' me to mind my own business."  
  
"I guess you could say that's what I mean, but remember, you said those exact words not me."  
  
"In my defense then, I think you should know that you're my friend and teammate. That makes you my business. You may not tell me what's going on, but I bet I know some people who will."  
  
"Please, just let it be." I pleaded. "There's no need for you to get involved."  
  
Logan just shrugged at me. Talking to him was like talking to a stonewall sometime. I had no doubt in my mind that he would make good on his threat to find out what's going on. "Nearly forgot. I got a message for you. Some guy called. He said name was Jean-Paul or somethin'," he said with a disapproving tone. "Told me to tell you thanks for the interestin' evening and that he would be by here tomorrow at sunset."  
  
Jean-Paul was coming here. No, he couldn't come here. I would meet him at the club, at a restaurant—anywhere but here. How did he plan to get here, anyway? He told me he didn't drive, but I guess that could be easily remedied thanks to the New York cab system… or Carmen. "Did he leave a number for me contact him with?" I asked.  
  
Logan shook his head at me. "No, but he did say wear somethin' sexy, and then hung up before I could tell him I ain't a goddamn messenger boy." Logan didn't look too pleased. I don't know if wasn't pleased with Jean-Paul or something else.  
  
My stomach complained loudly. I hadn't eaten all day. "I could go for a cheese pizza, right now." I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek, changing the subject before Logan could start again with his questions. I was more content with him thinking that Jean-Paul was a prospective love interest rather than a crucial player in my case.  
  
"But you don't eat pizza." Logan reminded me. I wasn't much of a pizza fan. The tomato sauce usually didn't settle well with my stomach, and that was that minor grievance I had with the taste. But for some reason, I wanted it – desperately.  
  
"I know, but I'm suddenly having this craving for pizza with loads of cheese." I said, wistfully. I also had this weird craving for something meaty (if that makes sense), but that's peculiar. I don't eat meat, and I didn't plan to start because of some bizarre cravings. "I'm going to get dressed. I'll be downstairs shortly."  
  
I dressed slowly, thinking about Jean-Paul and extra gooey cheese pizzas while I pulled on my clothes. I decided to myself that I needed something stronger than my handguns. If I was going into a den full of vampires, you'd better believe that I wanted something that would protect me. Choices in weapons were limited for a hunter when you weren't of the Christian persuasion. A cross or holy water would be nice to have in some cases, but I didn't mind settling for a gun.   
  
I was going to need more than just my guns for this though, and I knew one person who I could get some impressive artillery from. I tugged on a sweatshirt and jeans and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, walking into the hallway. I picked up a phone resting on a stand in the hallway, looking around to make sure no one—particularly Logan—was lurking around. I was really going to have to invest in a cell phone or my own line. I really hadn't had a need for either one until recently.   
  
I dialed the number to Phil's quickly. It rang twice and then, Cecilia picked up. "Phil's Place," she snapped into the phone.   
  
"Cee, it's me, Ororo." I said quietly, still afraid that someone might be lurking around. I covered my mouth and the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand. I knew that wouldn't work if Logan was around somewhere, but it would keep other possible listeners from listening. "Is Phil around, now? I really need to speak to him."  
  
"Yeah, girl, hold on one sec," I heard her move the phone. "Yo! Phil! You got a phone call! It's important!" I heard her yell. Then, there was a brief pause and then the sound of muffled voices.   
  
"This is Phil," the male voice said.  
  
"Phil, it's me, Ororo. I need a favor if you can do it." I said, dropping my voice another octave. I knew he could hear me. He was a vampire after all.   
  
"Keep talkin'." Phil said.  
  
"I need a shotgun, preferably a sawed-off shot gun. One that I could easily conceal under a large jacket if I had to. You got one of those lying around?" I asked. Not only was Phil the person to get information from, he was also the man to get weapons from. I used to joke that he had a small arsenal hidden somewhere. I didn't think that was far from the truth.   
  
"That's a big gun for such a small lady," he joked. "But then again, I guess if anyone could handle a shotgun, it would be you. You really need to find a new profession, Ororo. It's a little unsettling giving a beautiful lady such a deadly weapon."  
  
That was Phil for you. He was always telling me how I needed to focus my attention on the school. In his words, I should just let the weirdoes raise the dead and kill the vampires. He didn't know that being part of the X-Men was a no safer than being an animator or a vampire hunter. I just had to deal with a scarier bunch being a hunter. "One of these days, Phil, I might take your advice, but tonight, I really need to know if you have a shotgun."   
  
He was quiet for a couple of minutes. "You know I can't say no to you. Meet me behind the bar in an hour."  
  
"Thanks, Phil. I owe you." I said. I hung up the phone and stood there for just a second. My stomach growled, loudly, reminding me of that it still needed to be fed. I couldn't believe I wanted pizza, of all things, but I found myself dialing the number of a local pizza place and requesting a large, hand tossed cheese pizza with extra cheese – heavy on the tomato sauce. Yuck. I needed to pick up something sexy to wear while I was out. Going out on a school night. I was turning into a real rebel. I rolled my eyes and went in search of my keys.   
  
I met Phil behind his bar in promptly an hour. Phil was in his mid-forties, but he looked younger. It might have been the whole vampire thing. The temples of his hair were just starting to turn silver when he was turned. He was only an inch or so taller than myself, but he was equipped with the build of a college linebacker. He had stern hazel eyes and aquiline features that intimidated people. What most people didn't know was that Phil was actually a warmhearted person.  
  
He gave me the gun, telling me to find an empty field or something and practice. Then, we exchanged friendly repartee. He told me, once again, that one of these days my work was going to catch up with me. He was probably right. In fact, it was probably catching up with me right now. I was probably going to be killed by some psychotic, childlike vampire – just for the hell of it. That was a positive way of looking at things.   
  
Next, I went to a boutique and picked the first thing that caught my eye that was in my size and seemed "sexy". I didn't try it on, and I barely looked at it. All I knew was that it was a pant set with a lightning design. It would have to do. Lastly, I picked up my pizza. The smell was heavenly, yet repugnant at the same time. It made my stomach churn hungrily while causing a sense of nausea to course through me. I didn't understand this.  
  
When I arrived back at the mansion, I sat at the kitchen table, devouring slice after slice of that disgusting pizza. The taste sent the same feelings through me as the smell had. Half of me seemed to revel in the taste, delighting in the cheese and the sauce -- it was bliss. However, another part of me was disgusted at what I was eating, sickened at the taste. I didn't want it, yet I couldn't stop eating it. It was as if I had no control over my own actions. I warred within myself.  
  
"Ororo? Are you okay?" I heard Scott ask at the entrance of the kitchen. I couldn't see his eyes behind his glasses, but I knew he was studying me with that hawk-like stare. Sometimes, I really wish I could see Scott's eyes.   
  
"Yes, I'm okay." I said through bites of pizza. The half that wanted the pizza won. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, you're eating pizza for one thing," he answered, walking into the kitchen. He opened the door of the refrigerator, reaching for a soda. Shutting the door, he turned toward me. "You never eat pizza. I believe you said it tasted like cardboard with imitation mush on it, and I told you that you were the only person in America who didn't like it. Something must really be bugging you for you to be eating it."  
  
I smiled, slightly, remembering the conversation. He sat down in a chair across the small table from me. "You're right. Something is bothering me, but I'd rather not discuss it. Right now, I want to concentrate on getting as much of this down as I can. Want a slice?" Scott helped himself to a slice of pizza. I bit back a moan as my head threatened to throb again. I'm sure none of this was going unnoticed by Scott.  
  
"Hey, you two!" Another voice called – Jean. She waltzed over to the table, plopping in a chair beside Scott. She took a bite of Scott's pizza. "You look a little sick, Ororo." Concern crept into her voice.  
  
"Look at what I've been eating," I said, waving my hand at the pizza. "A craving hit me, and I wanted pizza." I knew it wasn't the pizza that was affecting me. I looked into her eyes, and she gasped.  
  
"Are you wearing contacts?" She asked, leaning across the table. I shook my head, and she looked worried. "Your eyes are the same color as that guy at the club, Vega."  
  
I pulled away from her as if burned when she said this. No, that could be right. Wasn't the world supposed to turn green when my eyes changed color – when he invaded? "I think the lights are just playing tricks on your eyes, Jean." I said, closing my eyes. Please, go away. I said silently. I opened my eyes again, looking at Jean.  
  
She stared into my eyes bewildered for a moment. "Maybe, you're right." She said with a chuckle. However, I could tell from her tone that she wasn't convinced it had been a trick of the light.  
  
I wanted to get away. I stood, stretching a little. "I'm feeling a little tired you guys. I didn't get much sleep. I think I'm about to call it a night." I fled from the kitchen, standing beside the kitchen door.  
  
"Scott, I know I'm not going crazy. Her eyes were the most hypnotic shade of green." I heard Jean say, as I stood by the door. Jean was far from crazy. She had seen my eyes change colors.  
  
"Maybe, you're a little tired as well. How about we go upstairs, and I tuck you in."  
  
"Scott!" Jean sounded surprised, and then I heard her giggle. "That might not be a bad idea."  
  
I quickly retreated to my room before the lovely couple could catch me eavesdropping. I dressed for bed, letting the fatigue overtake my body. I'm surprised that I lasted this long on so little sleep – being unconscious didn't count as sleep. I crawled between the covers, letting my eyes droop as my head rested against the soft pillow, making way for the dreams of him…  
  
I opened my eyes and stretched in the large, mahogany bed. I ran my fingers along the dark wood of the bed and then across the elegant silk sheets that shone a beautiful, blood red. I smiled and inhaled deeply. The smell of honey, cinnamon, and roses permeated the room. Most people might decide that was an odd combination of smells, but to me it was heavenly. I inhaled again and buried my face in the plush, feather pillow that was lying beside me and let out an approving sigh.   
  
I looked around the room, memorizing my surroundings. The room was big but sparsely furnished. Besides the bed, there was only an armoire fashioned from the same wood as the bed, and in a far corner of the room, there was a brass vanity table. I didn't know where I was, but at the same time, I felt as if I did know where I was. I knew I was expecting someone. I was expecting him – Vega. I suddenly felt the need to make myself desirable for him.  
  
I stood from the bed, walking slowly over to the vanity. In the mirror, I could see that I was wearing a long, silk gown that was colored the same red as the sheets. Sanguine, I think the color was called. Vermillion might be a better term for it. There were two slits on either side of the gown that stopped about mid-thigh. It reminded me of the seductive gowns I had often seen in Victoria's Secret but was never brave enough to buy – not that I had anyone to wear it for, anyway. I touched the soft silk of the gown, letting the soft material slip from my fingers.   
  
I sat at the vanity, examining the goods that sat before me. There were perfumes, powders, lotions, and brushes. I immediately picked up a brush and began to pull it through my white locks. I studied my reflection in the mirror. My lips were slightly parted, and my eyes shined brightly with anticipation, but anticipation for what?  
  
I heard the door open and my breath caught in my throat. I gripped the brush tightly, my fingers throbbing from the applied pressure. A wave of trepidation and expectation washed over me, and I debated with myself whether I should turn to face him or not. I chose the latter over the former.  
  
I kept my eyes concentrated on the brush I held in my hand. I strained my ears to hear him moving, but I was met with deathly silence. The hairs on my neck prickled, and I fought the temptation of turning around suddenly. I had to make him come to my, not the other way around. I sat stock-still, waiting for what seemed like hours until I felt a pair of hands graze my shoulders.   
  
I gasped. I had been expecting the touch, but it still caught my off guard. He still said nothing, and I felt my heart racing. But was it racing in fear or expectancy? Maybe, a little of both?   
  
I didn't say a word as the hands began to knead my shoulders tenderly. I thought I felt lips brush across my right shoulder, but I couldn't be sure. It had been so brief, but I felt goosebumps forming on my arms. A finger teased the length of my neck, followed by feathery kisses that pursued the same trail as the finger. The velvety lips seemed to linger at my neck for just a moment, and I stiffened. He caressed my neck again with his finger, and then, I felt the tip of his tongue tickle my neck.  
  
I felt myself being turned to face him – my seducer. Beautiful was the initial word that came to mind when I looked at him. The first thing I noticed was his hair. His hair was untamed, framing his face in a rebellious fashion, begging to be touched. His green eyes were dark with emotion; bottomless pools of emerald, betraying a hint of mystery. I wanted to believe that this was some sort of trick. He was making himself appear more beautiful than he really was. I wanted to speak to him, to tell him to stop playing with my mind, but my voice wouldn't come to me.   
  
He took my hands in his own; his skin felt soft and delicate to touch. Bringing my hand to his cool lips, he kissed it softly, his eyes never leaving me own. He led me away from the vanity, back to the bed I had occupied moments before. I looked at him with uncertainty as a lump formed in my throat, but he only smiled invitingly to me. He laid me back on the bed and stroked my hair lovingly as if to reassure me. His fingers trailed from my hair to my neck again, tracing a finger across my collarbone, causing an involuntary shudder. This wasn't right, but I didn't want to think about it.   
  
For once, I wanted to stop being so moral; I just wanted to feel.  
  
He used his teeth to slide the thin straps of the gown down my shoulders, exposing my naked breasts to the world. I tried to cover myself, but he batted my hands away, shaking his head. He lowered his head to my chest and graced my collarbone with a kiss. His ran his hands up and down the sides of my body, being careful not to touch any highly sensitive areas. This only made me yearn more for his touch.   
  
He placed light kisses on my chest, his teeth grazing my skin, and I trembled in response. I arched my back toward him, offering up my bosom, but he ignored it. It frustrated me, but I didn't want him to stop… Then, he suddenly stopped, as if reading my mind. I tried to protest, but the words wouldn't come. I looked at him, furiously, wishing my eyes could bore holes through his head. How dare he tease me like that.   
  
His smile became more inviting as his hand hovered above my still clothed stomach. There was no warmth emitting from his hands. Instead, there was more of a coolness that made chills run down my spine. He silently waved his hand over my body, letting his fingers barely touch my responsive skin. I trembled when his hands teased the side of my breast.   
  
I stared into his eyes, lust making them appear shades darker than their normal color. That looked frightened me, but at the same time, it was arousing. He made a move to rip the gown away from my body, but he hesitated. "Take it off for me," he said, his voice low and husky.   
  
"Ask me." I said, my voice commanding, yet subdued. He smiled at me, flashing a bit of his fangs.  
  
"Would you the gown off for me?" He asked, caressing my cheek. I kissed the palm of his hand, feeling his pulse beat against my lips.  
  
"Ask again."  
  
He brought his face close to mine, rubbing his cheek against mine. I could feel his lips against my ear. "Would you please take the gown off, Ororo?" He asked again.  
  
"Yes," I whispered and slid away from him, getting off the bed, walking to the middle of the floor. I held the gown to my body, pulling the straps over my shoulders, sauntering away from him with a sway of my hips.   
  
I peeked over my shoulder where he was watching my every move, hungrily. I ran my hands over my body slowly, and he raised his eyebrows at me. I slowly slid the straps back down my shoulders. Holding the material over my form, letting it fall inch by inch, until finally I released it. It fell to my feet in a puddle of crimson. "An Aphrodite born of blood and lust instead of the sea." He said, as he stalked toward me, a hunter hunting its prey. This should have alarmed me, but I felt seductive and powerful.   
  
I backed away from him, fueling the chase. I moved around the bed, and he followed me with those same calculated, predatory steps. I found myself wondering if this was how he hunted. I turned my back away from him, and it didn't surprise me moments later when his lips brushed my shoulders. I pulled away him, again, but he wouldn't allow me to deny him – and I didn't want to.  
  
He turned me to him somewhat roughly, pushing me against the bare, cold stone of the walls, pinning my arms to my side. He crushed my lips with this own. His tongue invaded my mouth and wrestled my own as if we were battling wills. Then, his kiss slowed and he nibbled slightly on my bottom lip. He released my arms, and I unbuttoned the simple, white shirt he was wearing, pulling it away from his chest, revealing a tattoo of a snake that coiled around his torso and arm.  
  
I ran my hand across his smooth chest, trying to memorize the feel. I touched my lips to his chest, and he pulled my head away. Using the support of the wall, I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting my head fall against his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I could feel his heart thumping like mad or was that my own? Perhaps, it was our hearts beating as one. He buried his face in my neck, his hair tickling my shoulders, his cool lips moving against my skin as he said, "We are one. You are forever connected to me."   
  
"Forever?" I whispered. No, I didn't want forever. I tried to push him away from me, but he wasn't budging. His eyes were darker now, but with something I couldn't understand.  
  
"What did you expect, Ororo? I am a vampire," he said as if I didn't already know this. He pulled away from me, a mischievous grin covered his face. "And you may never see the light again."  
  
"Wake up." I whispered to myself. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"  
  
My eyes fluttered open to the sound of me built-in radio screaming out into the night. "Ohhh, you were a vampire, and I may never see the light…" A female voice wailed into the room, seemingly repeating his words. I quickly turned it off and hugged myself tightly. This was going to be a long night. 


	10. Chapter Ten

**10.**

I sat in a plush chair facing the Professor's desk, looking at him nervously. He called me in his office, and I'm sure we were not going to talk about how my classes were going. I felt like a child who had been called to the principal's office for some offense. I fought the urge to look down at my hands. I could get away with half-truths with Logan, Scott, and Jean. The Professor would never probe my brain against my will, but there was just something wrong about lying to him.

I wasn't saying that people should lie to their friends. I was exactly lying to them; I was just keeping the complete truth from them. There is a difference, and when I figure out that difference, I'll let you know. I just didn't want them involved in this sordid affair, and if it was a crime to care about your friends' lives, then I was guilty a thousand times over.

"Please sit, Ororo." The Professor said in the fatherly tone I had grown accustomed to. He laced his fingers, looking at me expectantly. I noted I had picked up that same habit. He was the one who called for this meeting, yet he was looking at me as if I were the one who needed to start talking. After sitting quietly for a few minutes he finally asked, "Ororo, I sense there is something tumultuous happening is in your life."

I nodded solemnly. "You are right. There is something big going on, right now."

"Do you care to discuss it?"

He didn't really have to ask me that question. One look inside my head would've told him everything he needed to know about what was going on with me. That was one of the things I liked about the Professor. He never snooped around in my head—or anyone else's—unless he had permission or it was deemed necessary.

"I would like to confide in you, Professor, but doing so might be dangerous." I wanted to add that perhaps I shouldn't even reside at the school, anymore. I was a threat to his school. His dream could come crashing down around him because I was here.

"Ororo, we are here if you need us. You cannot be afraid to ask us for our help. If you need us, we will abet you. _I_ will help you in anyway I can." The Professor said, and that warmed my heart. He was the only father I'd ever really know, and he had already done so much for me.

"That's all I've been hearing, lately. I know that you all are my friends, my _only_ family, and that's why I want to keep you all out of this. Maybe, that is selfish, but I couldn't bear to look at myself if something happened…" I trailed off, thinking of what could happen to Jean if I failed. I know that my fate at the hands of Sakura would probably be much more severe, but how could I worry about my own fate when Jean's life hung in limbo? I would have gladly given my life if it meant freeing Jean.

"Ororo–"

"No, let me finish, please. I cannot let you or the others get too involved in this, but I think I can tell you what's building the psi barriers." I was going to take Logan's advice and tell the Professor about the vampires in as little words as possible. I wondered how a vampire's telepathic skills matched up against someone like the Professor. If the Professor had been able to get through their barriers, that meant he was at least as strong as they were… right? I wanted to believe that he was. "I think two of the city's master vampires are trying to get in my head."

He looked at me grimly for a moment. "I thought you might say that. Well, actually, I didn't expect you to say that master vampires were the cause of this, but there was empirical evidence that made me think that vampires were the cause for your mental anguish." He sighed.

"Empirical evidence?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow at the professor.

"Yes, when I was trying to break through those barriers, I saw some interesting things," he said, closing his eyes.

"Jean said you weren't able to make sense of those things." I said, my voice becoming low.

"Much of it didn't make sense, but I was able to piece together enough of it to know that the cause was supernatural."

"Why didn't you tell Jean what you suspected, Professor?"

"I wanted to discuss the matter with you before Jean, and now, I'm pretty sure that was a wise decision, seeing as you're so adamant about us not helping you."

I nodded in agreement. So far, the only people that knew anything was going on were the Professor and Logan. "Is there anything you can do?" I asked, hopefully.

"I can continue to try to combat their hold. I was able to get through the barrier, and now that I know what I'm dealing with, I can think of ways to better aid you."

"Thank you," I said, feeling somewhat better. I talked with the Professor a little while longer, taking care not to mention anything that was too risky.

After leaving his office, I promptly went to the kitchen and devoured two slices of cold pizza. In fact, much of the day was spent consuming whatever I could find. If it was edible, I nibbled on it, even if I didn't really want—or like—it. This isn't going to make any sense, but some of this stuff I felt like I was tasting for the first time. Weird, right? Also, I had this intense craving for strawberries. I left the mansion numerous times to fill my strawberry craving. I don't even want to talk about the trials of getting strawberries this time of the year.

I forced myself to take a nap before I got ready to go with Jean-Paul. Rampart dreams of being chased by Vega ensued, but despite my dreams of Vega, I woke up refreshed, ready for whatever they were willing to throw me. I spent a couple of hours in the rec room watching movies with the children. Logan occupied a corner of the room, and although I couldn't see his eyes, I could feel them on me as he puffed on his cigar. It was almost as if he were trying to get inside of my head; that made me nervous. It meant he was planning something, and undoubtedly, it revolved around me.

I just hoped he wouldn't do anything infinitely stupid.

About an hour before sunset, I started getting ready for my night out. I somehow endured a shower with a pulsing headache. _What are you doing to me, Vega?_ I asked, silently. I felt this odd, warm feeling slide down skin. Had he heard me? Were we really forever connected as he said in the dream? Was he with me no matter where I went or what I did? I hoped not. I shivered at the thought of his words proclaiming that we would were one. Goddess, when I see him again, I was going to give him a piece of my mind for toying with my mind.

Then a somewhat scary thought crossed my mind. What if Sakura killed him? Right now, he was probably being held captive in some cross-wrapped coffin, but Sakura was quite volatile. What if she decided holding him captive wasn't good enough. I couldn't worry about him. I _would not_ worry about him. My plate was already full. However, what would his demise mean for me? Would I be affected by his death if Sakura killed him? I swallowed hard and tried to convince myself that that was a ridiculous thought.

I pulled on a backless shirt that tied around my neck and my lower back. I studied the vibrant blue of the lightning; I was hoping the print would keep the attention away from the bruises on my back, or maybe, I _did_ want them to see the bruises. I, unlike everyone else that was going to be there, had no bragging rights. No impressive scars or bites to show off with the other human junkies. All I had were some bruises I got for wrestling with some rats.

Next, I pulled on a pair of snug-fitting, hip-hugger pants with the same blue lightning motif. Two slits that stopped a little above mid-thigh ran up both pant legs and was loosely tied together with strings. As I twirled around in the mirror, I actually felt somewhat sexy in those pants. They were playful and teasing, showing too much skin, yet not enough.

I slipped my feet into a ridiculously high pair of strapped heels and hoped I wouldn't fall. I couldn't remember the last time I wore an outfit of this caliber. This was not a bad clubbing outfit. Too bad it would probably only be worn this one time since I didn't go out much. I was just too busy to be active in the social scene, or maybe, that was my excuse to avoid the social scene.

I stuck with my simple upsweep for my hair; I let a few curled tendrils dance around my face. I refused to do anything fancy to my hair. I looked at my ashen locks and hoped that nobody would recognize me. This was New York, and while I wasn't the only black woman with white hair running around this city, I was the only one whose hair was this color naturally.

Many vampires had heard about me, but never seen me. I didn't make it a habit to hang out on their side of town, and most of the vampires I had run into were now dead.

Last was the make up. I didn't use base, but I swept my skin with this shimmering, compressed powder. It gave my skin a soft, velvet look as opposed to the smooth, shiny, silky look it possessed on its own. I put on the mascara and eye shadow somewhat thick and coated my lips with a deep, ruby lipstick. I looked like a completely different person when I was done. Good, I was going for that "look-like-anyone-but-yourself" look.

I stuck a gun and a silver knife in my purse since I obviously wouldn't be able to hide them on me. I'd hidden the shotgun I acquired the night before in my car. I know. What good is a gun going to do me in the car? I felt better knowing that it was available. I was hoping things wouldn't get ugly tonight, but if push came to shove, I would rely on my natural instincts.

_Ororo_, I heard Jean's voice float into my head. _There's a guy down here for you, and let me tell you he has on one _aggressive_ outfit. I bet if I touched him, he would sizzle. _

I laughed aloud despite myself. _Just don't let Scott catch you in the act of getting burned, and don't invite my guest in, okay?_

_Too late. Scott already did. _Jean responded. I didn't answer her as I snatched up my jacket and purse and exited my room. I should have told them not to invite him in beforehand. Vampires couldn't enter your home unless invited, and once they were invited in, they could enter any time they wanted. This is reversible, however.

"Hello, Ororo," Jean-Paul said when he spotted me at the top of the stairs. All eyes turned to me, and I nodded at them from the top of the stairs. "You clean up nicely."

"I could say the same about you." I said, eyeing Jean-Paul. Jean was right he was wearing an aggressive, little number. A form-fitting blood, red shirt hugged his torso. It was see-through, of course. I didn't expect anything less of Jean-Paul. You could see every muscle chiseled into that shirt. No need for imagination here, folks.

His shiny, black leather pants threatened to blind everyone in the room. Slung low on his waist, they clung to those his hips like no tomorrow. They almost rivaled Logan's snug fitting pants. I said _almost_. Jean-Paul's pants deserved an award; Logan's pants deserved an appreciation day. See the difference? Speaking of Logan, where was he? I hadn't seen him since we were in the rec room.

He had a jacket in his hands, and I wondered why he didn't have it on. It was more than just a little chilly outside. I found out a few minutes later when he "accidentally-on-purpose" dropped his jacket. He used exaggerated movements as he bent over to pick it up. I forgot that Jean-Paul loved attention, and that's definitely what he was looking for here.

Just the same, I couldn't resist tilting my head, and I chuckled silently when I saw Jean doing the same thing by Scott's side. Giggling rang from the top of the stairs, and I saw a couple of the girls standing at the top of the steps. I couldn't say that Jean-Paul didn't know how to manipulate a situation to his advantage. Scott cleared his throat, and Jean's head snapped back to attention. A smug smile covered her face as she raised one eyebrow at me.

Jean Paul stood up slowly, a slight smile played on his lips, and I wanted to tell him that he wasn't at the club. He didn't have play up to the female population here. "Jean-Paul, let me introduce you to my friends. This is Scott Summers and Jean Grey." I said, as I at each respective person. I didn't know where Logan was. "Everyone, this is my friend Jean-Paul Beaubier." _Take a good look at him_, I wanted to say. If I come up missing, they'll know who to search for.

Scott only nodded at him gruffly. I knew Jean-Paul could probably charm him if he really wanted to. Or could he considering the situation? Jean held out a hand, and Jean-Paul locked hands with her. "Have we met before?" Jean asked Jean-Paul, studying his face. She hadn't actually met him unless you counted him grinding the air between them at the club. She shouldn't remember that though. However, she shouldn't have remembered Jean-Paul's face, which made my thoughts stray back to the earlier assumption that more persuasion might be needed with telepaths.

Jean-Paul smiled dazzlingly at her. "No, I don't think so. I would've remembered someone as pretty as you." He playfully tugged a lock of her hair, and she blushed. This earned Jean-Paul a nice glare from Scott. He steered Jean away from Jean-Paul. I can't say that I blame him. I wouldn't leave Jean-Paul alone in the room with anyone.

"Shall we go? I have Carmen outside waiting for us." Jean-Paul said to me. I must've made quite the acerbic face when Carmen's name was mentioned because Jean-Paul actually flinched. He was too human for his own good.

"Well, tell her we'll follow her. We _are_ taking my car." I said firmly, biting back the string of words that I wanted to say. I didn't spend all afternoon finding the perfect hiding place in my car for the shotgun to ride with that treacherous bitch, Carmen.

"Carmen's outside?" Jean asked, looking a bit hurt. Damn Jean-Paul for mentioning her name. She probably thought Carmen and I were buddy-buddy, now. That wasn't the case at all. I didn't know what to say as Jean's face continued to crumble. "Why didn't she tell me she was dropping by? You didn't mention you were going out with her."

I could read between the lines. She really wanted to know why we hadn't invited her to come along. I didn't know what to say or do, and I didn't want to leave Jean there feeling as if we were leaving her out on something fun. I thought about telling Jean that we weren't talking about the same person, but all she would have to do is look outside to see that I was lying.

"Yeah, but she's just showing us how to get to this place, and then, she's going to handle some business of her own." I hoped that like sounded believable. I couldn't think of anything better to say. Damn Carmen and damn Jean-Paul for mentioning her name before Jean. She still didn't look thoroughly convinced, and I quickly exited the house with a muttered goodbye.

"Carmen's waiting for us," he said, pointing at Carmen's car. I nodded and led him to the garage where my car was waiting. Jean-Paul immediately went to Scott's car. I guess I was going to have to stop driving it so much. I had only recently purchased the car of my dreams, so I was still in the habit of driving Scott's car.

"That's not my car." I said. Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows at me.

I pushed the unlock button on my keychain and the lights of my car flashed once. Jean-Paul let out a long, low whistle when he saw what I was driving. He ran his fingers over the smooth exterior of my Audi Cabriolet. It was a Venetian red pearl color complete with a drop top for those long summer days. I saved up for quite a while to purchase that car. It was worth every penny.

"That's my car." I said with a swell of pride.

"I didn't think you were paid that much for being a teacher."

"I don't just teach, remember. Raising the dead is pretty expensive work, and I help out the police every now and then. That money adds up."

"Good point," he said sliding into the car, he ran his fingers over the leather seats. "This isn't the type of car I imagined you driving."

"Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?" I asked. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment.

"Something more conventional like a Honda or a Toyota, never an Audi. Not saying you aren't a classy woman, but I see fat aristocrats who are desperately clinging to their lost youth driving these cars. But hey, it suits you…" He trailed off and then said, "Not saying that you're fat and old or anything—"

"I know, Jean-Paul." I smiled a little and started the car. This was my last chance to call this off. I sat there for a moment, and then, I pulled off.

Jean-Paul fiddled with the radio, voices and songs blurring together as he looked for a suitable station. "You don't mind do you, Ororo?" He asked after a couple minutes. Why was he asking me that now? He'd already made himself at home in my car.

"No, knock yourself out." I said. He continued to turn the dials, stopping at a station where the opening bars of "And I Ran" were just beginning to play. The only reason I even knew that song was because some of the older children liked to play Grand Theft Auto, and this song seemed to always be playing. I couldn't help smiling as Jean-Paul started singing along to the song, bobbing his head to the beat.

"I walk along the avenue. I never thought I'd meet a girl like you. Meet a girl like you. With ashen hair and coffee eyes, the kind of eyes that hypnotize me through. That hypnotize me through." He pinched my cheek as he sang that. I probably should've slapped his hand away, but I was too amused to do anything but smile like a moron. That was really smooth – changing the words to describe me. It was corny, but in a decidedly cute way. "And I ran, I ran so far away. I just ran, I ran all night and day. I couldn't get away…"

Too bad he was probably working with Sakura against me. He wasn't so bad to be a vampire. Sure he was very overly flirty, but he had a good side about him that seemed to be more prevalent than his other side. I could actually see myself calling him friend, which was never supposed to happen. I could be cordial with vampires, but never had I considered one a friend.

We rode in silence as classic 80's tunes filled the car. I was painfully aware of his eyes on me. I swear I could feel his eyes as they traveled up and down the length of my body. Whether he was regarding me as dinner or as something else, I wasn't sure. Maybe, it was a mixture of both. If that was the case, wouldn't that contradict my earlier statement about him being good?

I could hear him shifting in his seat, sliding toward me; I tried to keep my concentration on keeping up with Carmen who was driving like a bat out of hell. I nearly ran off the road when I felt him slide an arm around my shoulder. "Get away from me," I said, my voice a low growl. I didn't like whatever this was that was going on. It had started out innocently enough, but now, it was too… personal. Too personal, that seemed to be a phrase I was using a lot these days. I elbowed him hard in the ribs for emphasis, and he moved away from me, quickly. "And stay on your side of the car."

"I was just trying to get through the ice princess act. You can't always be as indifferent as you appear to be. You have to have some passion there somewhere."

"I don't need you dissecting me, Dr. Beaubier." I said, sarcastically.

He moved close to me again, this time I could feel his breath on my ear as he asked, "What turns you on?" It took everything I had not to stop the car and stab him with my knife. What the hell was he trying to do?

"When did Valiant first start visiting you?" I asked, nastily. Jean-Paul pulled back from me as if I burned him. I warned him. He tried me, and I retaliated. I glanced at Jean-Paul and his face betrayed fear. I nearly felt sorry for him. I knew the mention of Valiant could be too pleasant. Valiant brought nothing but destruction and chaos to everyone he encountered. I could wait to see the day that I could destroy Valiant.

"Wh-when did you see Valiant? Is he going to be at the party tonight? They promised me he wouldn't be there." Jean-Paul whimpered. His eyes were wide and fear giving him a youthful appearance. I felt sorry for him. He was obviously very scared of Valiant.

"I didn't talk to him," I said in a soothing tone. "Do I look like the type of person that Valiant would talk to?"

"Then, who told you?"

"An informant of mine told me about you. I needed to know if you could be trusted. I probably can't, but I'm putting some faith in you." I answered, honestly. Jean-Paul looked down at his hands. He was so childlike, yet so adult.

"I won't betray you, Ororo. I swear I won't." His voice was barely above a whisper, and I wanted to trust him. Really, I did. But he was a vampire, first and foremost, and he was a junkie, secondly. I think we both really knew better.

"I lost Carmen." I said once I paid attention to the traffic.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you where we're going," he said, his voice still full of that childish resolve.

The neighborhood he directed me to was the picture of perfection. Every house looked the same; every lawn was perfect manicured. In the driveways were nice, family-sized sedans and SUVs. Goddess, we were in the middle of suburbia. All that was missing was the smiling, happy parents with their too perfect children. I couldn't believe that a freak party was held in this neighborhood. Nothing should surprise me anymore, though. I never expected vampires to get rights in the first place.

Before we got out of the car, he told me was expected of people at these parties. Let's say I spent most of that conversation frowning. He said he would protect me, but how did he really expect to protect me from master vampires. Okay, now, was not the time to start freaking out. I asked him to bring me to this place, and I was going to go through with this.

We walked beneath the garage, and I saw a human woman standing at the door. She wore a lacy, white bra with matching panties and garter. Long black hair spilled over her shoulders. I couldn't see her eyes, but she was attractive with her upturned nose and high cheekbones. I couldn't really see her as being the perfect, suburban housewife, but I'm sure she's a lot different in the daylight. "Overdressed am I?" I said to Jean-Paul.

His grip tightened around my waist; his grip tightened when I tried to pull away. "Maybe not for long?" He said, quietly. I looked at him for a moment before deciding that he was just trying to spook me. There was no way I was taking anything off here, of all places. I'd blow my cover before I let anyone—or _anything_—undress me.

"Hello, Jean-Paul," the woman said when we approached her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the jaw. I could hear the beat of music pumping from inside the house.

"Hello, Alicia. Where's Roger?" Jean-Paul asked. His tone seemed rather perfunctory as he smiled a tight-lipped smile at the woman.

The woman gestured toward the house. "He's inside, entertaining the guests. And this must be your lovely girlfriend you were telling us about." Her eyes drank in my appearance, and she licked her lips as if enjoying some tasty treat. "You're going to have so much fun, tonight, dear."

Not with you I won't. That's what I wanted to say, but I remained silent, trying to act like the docile girlfriend. I couldn't believe that Jean-Paul was trying to keep up that girlfriend-boyfriend ruse, but I guess it was for the best.

"This is her first party. I don't think she'll be getting into the really, heavy stuff just yet." Jean-Paul said, his voice still mechanical.

Alicia let out a loud laugh. "And if _they_ decide otherwise, who's going to stop them? Surely, not _you_, Jean-Paul." She said with dismissive wave.

I could feel myself getting angry at this woman for goading Jean-Paul. I mean, sure I knew the statement was true, but what right did she have to make Jean-Paul feel inferior? And… and, what the hell was I thinking? This wasn't about Jean-Paul's feeling. I had to remind myself of that. I had a job to do. I couldn't become attached to some vampire stripper.

We entered the house. It was very dim, nearly dark, but I could make out figures of humans and vampires. The vampires present weren't much older than Jean-Paul, but he said that the master vampires always arrived later. Most of the occupants were huddled together engaged in idle chat. There was a guy dressed in tight, studded leather dancing with a trancelike slowness in the middle of the floor. Jean-Paul told me that was Alicia's husband, Roger.

Carmen was in a corner with a female vampire laughing robustly. I entertained myself with the thought of how easy it would be summon up a whirlwind and send her flying. I couldn't do that, not now at least. Various people greeted Jean-Paul, and he introduced me to every one as his girlfriend, Beauty. Not once did he try to flirt. That scared me more than anything. It was like a bad omen.

He steered me to a couch where we sat stiffly for a moment before a man walked toward us. He was a vampire. I'd say around 60-years-old. Perhaps, the oldest vampire present. He was the color of dark chocolate with large eyes and full lips. He was handsome, but he had a wolfish aura about him that made him seem dangerous. A hungry gleam glittered in the man's eyes as he looked from me to Jean-Paul, and finally, he let his eyes settle on Jean-Paul. I felt Jean-Paul stiffen beside me.

"Jean-Paul!" The man said, his voice deep and pleasant-sounding. He closed in on Jean-Paul, towering over him, exuding a defiant power. "I almost didn't recognize you. You've been hiding from us."

"Hello, Damascus." Jean-Paul said dryly. It was obvious that Jean-Paul didn't care for this man, Damascus, much. I can't say that I blame him. Even for a young vampire, this Damascus was a pretty imposing character.

"And who is this magnificent creature?" Damascus asked, turning his dark eyes toward me. His eyes fastened on my white locks for a moment. I saw his eyebrows rise in a gesture akin to interest. He reached toward a curly tendril, but Jean-Paul caught his hand before he could touch. Jean-Paul gave Damascus a warning stare that said, 'don't touch her'.

Damascus looked at Jean-Paul quizzically, pulling his hand away from him. "My girlfriend, Beauty. This is her first party." Jean-Paul said, moving a little closer to me. I didn't know if he was doing to make himself feel better or to show ownership.

"Girlfriend?" Damascus let out a hearty laugh. "You? A one-person man? And that one person is a woman? That just doesn't sound correct. Does she know the real Jean-Paul? I think we should introduce her to your darker side."

I didn't like the way the man's eyes were resting on Jean-Paul. I could almost feel the intensity flowing from them. I saw Jean-Paul stand from seat. It took me a moment to realize that he was being "enchanted" by the man. The older vampire had done the same thing to Jean-Paul at the club. I felt a brick drop in my stomach. I didn't think that I was going to like what happened. Why did he always have to be the victim?

Damascus smiled lasciviously at Jean-Paul, running his fingers through the unruly, dark locks. He pulled Jean-Paul in closer, their faces only inches apart, and I thought he might kiss Jean-Paul, but instead the man pulled back with a mocking grin. He tilted Jean-Paul's head to the side, exposing his neckline, and I winced as his tongue teased a spot on Jean-Paul's neck.

Damascus pressed his lips to Jean-Paul's neck, then pulled back. He ran his hands down Jean-Paul's neck, across his chest… down… down… I looked away, but quickly turned back and saw that Damascus' hands found themselves under Jean-Paul's barely there shirt, dark hands roaming on pale skin. My cheeks burned from embarrassment at the sight. I wanted to look away; I felt as if I was infringing on something sacred. However, I couldn't look away as the man's hands trailed down Jean-Paul's abs, his hands teasing the waistband of Jean-Paul's jeans.

Help me, Goddess. I was in some bad porno-horror movie.

"I think your girlfriend is entranced." Damascus said. I think sickened would be a better word. I didn't want to see him prey on Jean-Paul. He made a great show of groping Jean-Paul who's eyes were tightly closed, head still back an angle. "Just one bite." The man said in that same musical voice.

"No…" Jean-Paul said, his voice trailing. "I have to look out for my… my girlfriend tonight."

Jean-Paul's determination was wearing thin, and I saw the man's lips rest on Jean-Paul's neck again. This time I wasn't so sure that he wouldn't bite him. "Please, don't bite him!" I said, jumping from my seat. I was prepared to take the gun out of my purse if I had to defend Jean-Paul. I'd talked him into this, and I was going to make sure he came out of this experience unharmed.

Damascus laughed that same rich laugh and released Jean-Paul. "The mortal doesn't want to see her beloved harm." He said and then turned to me. "If you're going to be a regular member of these parties, my dear, you have to learn that part of the seduction is the violence."

With that final statement, he walked away from us. Jean-Paul sank into the couch, and I sat down beside him. He was actually shaking. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a vampire shake. The utter look of misery on his face was enough to break my heart. He looked like an overgrown kid trapped in a nightmare. I couldn't help berating myself a little.

I should've thought this through before making him bring me to one of these things. He was trying to get away from this lifestyle, and I forced him to bring me here. What did that say about me? There had to be other ways to get my leads on this case.

Here I was worrying about Jean-Paul when something greater was at stake. Always the humanitarian. "Old friend?" I asked, trying to sound lighthearted, but I was probably failing miserably.

"You could say that." Jean-Paul said in a strained tone, not looking at me.

I grabbed Jean-Paul's hand, rubbing it gently between my hands, trying to soothe him. I could feel his pulse racing through his skin. It was actually kind of funny that vampires had a pulse, considering that so many people believed they didn't. "Do you want to leave?" I asked Jean-Paul, softly. "If you want to leave, we can go."

This would put me back at square one, but I didn't want to make him stay if he didn't really want to be here. How would I feel if someone forced me to stay in a small enclosure? That surely wouldn't settle well with me, and I'm sure this party didn't settle well with him. He shook his head. "We can't leave."

"What do you mean we can't leave?" My throat tightened. Had Jean-Paul lured me into some elaborate trap set by Sakura? I looked around the room. Were they all going to attack me?

"I mean, I've been ordered not to leave." Jean-Paul said sadly. He dropped his eyes.

I touched his face, gently. "I don't understand. Has someone been giving you orders? When you came to see me were you really concerned about Vega? I need to know what's going on." I knew without a shadow of a doubt that someone was Sakura, but I needed to hear it from him.

Jean-Paul looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please, let's not talk about this, now." He was right. This didn't need to be discussed at the moment. We continued to sit there in silence, watching more people arrived.

A pretty, redhead walked through the door, making me think of Jean. My mouth dropped open when I saw who walked through the door after her. I looked at Jean-Paul who stared with concern. The newest person to arrive smiled, no, smirked at me as he let the hostess kiss him on the cheek. He was better at acting casual with these people than I was. I couldn't help standing, abruptly. Some of the patrons in the room looked at me, curiously. Okay, I had to calm down. I was going to blow my cover, but I couldn't help standing there slack jawed as he sauntered over to us.

"Hello," he said with a sly grin. His eyebrows actually shot up as his eyes swept over me appreciatively. That actually made the confidence meter go up a notch. Wait, wait… I was losing focus. This wasn't about the outfit or my ego being stroked; this was about him being here. Period. He held out his hand, and I took it haltingly, shooting death dagger stares at him. He wasn't even affected by glare.

"Hello," I muttered. Mentally, I screamed at him to go back to the mansion. Things were already complicated enough without adding Logan to the mix. How had he found out this was where I was going in the first place?

This was sure to be an interesting night, and I didn't necessarily mean that in a good way. Heavy damn sigh.


	11. Chapter Eleven

11.   
  
I pulled my hand away from Logan's more quickly than I intended. I didn't want to look too suspicious, but then again, Logan being here wasn't even in the game plan. I prepared myself for many things that night—vampire attacks, potential human attacks, etc—but I did not prepare for the possible arrival of a friend at this party. I wanted to be angry with him for trying to help when I specifically told him not to, but I couldn't be angry at him.   
  
I should have known he would do something like this. I underestimated him. Something that should never be done. I could only be angry with myself for confiding so much in him. This was my battle, and I wanted to keep it that way.   
  
Logan exchanged a few pleasantries with Jean-Paul, and then he sauntered off to another corner of the room, making small talk with some of the other patrons of the party. I had to remind myself to keep it together. I sat down again, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.   
  
"What's wrong?" Jean-Paul asked.  
  
"Nothing. Where's the bathroom?" I whispered to Jean-Paul. I knew he could hear me over the throbbing music. Hell, Logan probably heard me, too. I didn't care. I just needed to get out of that room. I felt like the roof was going to come crashing down at any second. I needed a moment to recompose my thoughts. I couldn't let this little glitch in the plans throw me off. I was a leader; I knew how to adjust to situations.  
  
"Follow me," he said. He stood up and led me up a flight of stairs and down a dim hallway. We walked into a bathroom. Jean-Paul closed and stood against the door; I rested my shaky hands on the edge of the sink, taking deep breaths, reminding myself that this was not a problem. I had to pull myself together for the sake of this investigation.  
  
"Did you know that man?" Jean-Paul asked.  
  
"Um… he looked sort of familiar." I stammered, not looking up to meet his eyes. I was anxious to change the subject. "You said that we couldn't leave. Why, Jean-Paul? Why can't we leave?" I wanted to leave now more than ever.   
  
"I can't. We can't. We just have to stay here." His voice dropped an octave when he said this. I didn't like his explanation for why we couldn't leave. I wanted to get out of here. Well, I wanted to get Logan out of here, and then, I wanted to get out of here.  
  
Silence filled the bathroom. I heard Jean-Paul shuffle toward me, and I felt his arms slide across my shoulder. I jerked away from him and looked at him. He didn't look like the lost puppy from moments before. He was now in full-seducing mode. "I thought we established that you were not supposed to make unwanted physical contact with me."  
  
He didn't say anything as he slipped his shirt over his head. I nearly choked on my tongue. He reached for me again, and this time I didn't move. I froze in the spot I was standing in. He pulled me close to him, and I put my hands against his chest to keep from making contact. Bright Lady, what was going on?   
  
"I think I like you. I mean… really, really like you. And I wonder how could I like you of all people? You kill vampires for a living, and I think I'm fucking falling in love with you." I saw him swallow hard as he said those words. His inflection was laced with an acridity that I didn't know he possessed.   
  
I broke from his embrace and stepped away from him, stepping into the bathtub shakily. Things were getting too weird. He's known me a few days, and he thinks he's falling in love with me. Goddess. I don't think I liked this game, anymore.  
  
"Jean-Paul, what are you doing? Put your shirt back on. You stop this, right now. You can't seriously think you love me. That's ridiculous. You don't even know me." I said, pushing myself into a corner of the tub, my voice urgent.   
  
Jean-Paul climbed into the tub, and I worked on making myself as compact as possible in my corner. I averted my eyes from Jean-Paul's chest and nearly screamed when I saw someone looking in the window to the bathroom. It was our host, Roger. There was nothing creepier than seeing a man watching you in the window while being accosted by a vampire.   
  
I turned back to Jean-Paul who was closer to me than I wanted. "He's watching us." Jean-Paul said, nodding toward the window. "He thinks we're lovers, remember; we have to give him a show. He expects me to bite you. If I bite you, that defines you as my property."  
  
I stiffened at that and started calculated necessary routes of escape. A lightning storm. A rainstorm. A full-blown hurricane. Instead of causing a natural disaster, I pleaded with Jean-Paul. "Please, Jean-Paul, don't bite me. Whatever you do, don't bite me."   
  
"I promise I won't bite you, but we have to go through the motions to make him think I did bite you." He whispered into my ear. I let him wrap his arm around me, and I felt helpless right then. "I would never betray you."  
  
That's a lie, or at least, I wanted to tell myself that it was a lie. He was a junkie; he would do anything the older vampires told him to do. However, his voice sounded so sincere. I hate to say this, but I had to trust Jean-Paul. I knew how he said he felt about me, but that didn't mean a damn thing if he would betray me to the other vampires. "Make it good." I said, reluctantly, meshing my body against Jean-Paul's.   
  
He used his fingertips to close my eyes, and I did so – probably stupidly, might I add. Our lips touched for a second. Then, he tilted my head back and I felt his lips on the side of my neck. I tensed, pushing against him. This could mean the end of my life. Tomorrow night I could be sucking blood from… I don't even want to think about it.  
  
"Relax, Ororo." He breathed into my neck. He placed a couple of kisses on my neck. I felt his tongue twirl around a spot on my neck. He paused for a moment, and then I felt his lips latch to my throat – no teeth. I stood there, stiffly, wishing he would hurry up. He was obviously enjoying this too much. I could tell from the way he was pulling me closer.  
  
I could feel it – that hunger. I remember feeling that same need with Vega. I hoped Jean-Paul wouldn't go berserk and bite me. I've seen that happen, and it wasn't pretty. I might not be fortunate enough to come back as one of them. Gruesome images of me with my throat ripped out clouded my mind. "Jean-Paul!" I called out into the bathroom, and he let go of me, hastily.   
  
When he pulled back, I felt air hitting dampness on my neck. I could see blood on his lips. Frantic, I put my fingers to my neck. There were no puncture wounds, but when I pulled my fingers away from my neck, I could see there was blood on the tips. "What did you do?" I hissed at him. He looked at the window where Roger no longer stood.   
  
"I bit my lip," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You can position a band-aid over that spot on your neck to make them think that I bit you. If they found out I didn't…" He trailed off. He opened the medicine cabinet and handed me a box of bandages.   
  
I looked in the mirror at the bloody spot on my neck. I turned on the faucet, wetting a towel and dabbing at my neck. I took one of the bandages out of the box, deliberately not looking at Jean-Paul as I did this. "Tell me; you owe me at least that." I said, once I positioned the small bandage on my neck. Jean-Paul nodded. He knew what I wanted him to tell me.  
  
"She told me that we were not to leave or else she would punish us both. That's all I know. And… I was…" He trailed. Don't you hate it when people do that?  
  
"And you where…?" I said, waving my hand in a rolling motion. I wanted him to go on.  
  
He didn't look too happy as he stared at the light fixture above the sink. "She wanted me to… ah… well… you're not going to like this. She wanted me to… seduce you." He said with a strained finality.   
  
"She wanted you to do what? Why?" I said. I didn't hide the obvious surprise in my voice, but he only shrugged. Why would she want him to do that? Was she looking for yet another weakness to use against me? And he had agreed to it? I couldn't believe this.   
  
"Look, Ororo. I didn't want to do it."   
  
I wanted to scream "bullshit!" into his face, but he seemed genuinely sorry as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair.   
  
"Since the first time I saw you at the club, I was supposed to be trying to seduce you. I thought it would be a piece of cake because human women are easy… um… no offense. Then, when I realized it was you, I knew my work was cut out for me… and then once I spent a little time with you I realized that I didn't want to do it. What I said before about liking you I really meant that."  
  
I didn't know how to respond to that. "Leave me alone." I said coolly, the temperature seemed to drop to match my icy tone. He paused for a second as if unsure, but then continued out the door, closing it behind him.   
  
I knew that I shouldn't be so angry at Jean-Paul. I was the one who told him to bring me to this forsaken place. He didn't want to come here. I should've known that I was going to have to play some stupid game. Vampires were notorious for the games they played. What had I gotten myself into? I closed my eyes and sighed. I heard the bathroom door open, and I thought it was Jean-Paul coming back.   
  
"Jean-Paul, please leave me alone."  
  
"Ain't Jean-Paul." I heard a gruff voice respond.   
  
"What are you doing here, Logan?" I asked, opening my eyes. I turned toward him, crossing my arm, trying to look authoritative. As usual, Logan wasn't bothered by this display of power.   
  
"I couldn't let you come to one of these things without any backup," he answered.   
  
"I thought I told you not to worry about me."  
  
"And that was supposed to stop me?"   
  
I sighed. "No, I guess not, but I wish you would have respected my wishes. How did you find out this was where I was going?" I couldn't be angry at Logan. He was concerned about my well-being. What true friend wouldn't have done the same thing? Okay, maybe, many people's friends would not have followed them, but friendship took on a new meaning when you were in the X-Men.   
  
Logan shrugged. "I have my ways."  
  
He has his ways. Was I ever going to be able to get a straight answer out of Logan? His eyes flickered over me, resting on my neck. "What happened to your neck? That freak didn't bite you, did he? Because if he did –" I could see him clenching his fist. I knew that I had about three seconds to explain before the claws came out.   
  
"No, he didn't bite me. He pretended to bite me because Roger was watching us through the window." I said, nodding at the window behind us.   
  
Logan focused on a point behind me and raised his eyebrows. "You mean like he's doin' now?" I bristled, but didn't turn around. Roger was quite the voyeur, wasn't he? He wanted action. I was going to give him action.   
  
Without thinking, I pushed Logan against the door of the bathroom. He made a sound to protest, but I pressed my lips against his. This was what Roger wanted to see, wasn't it? Or was I using Roger's presence as an excuse to do this? It was probably the latter. I couldn't let an opportunity like this pass me by; don't ask where the bravery to do it came from.   
  
Logan seemed shocked for a moment; he didn't move as my hands clasped the side of his face, bringing him closer. Our lips melted together as his lips parted slightly, and I felt him touch his tongue to my lips. Warm hands grasped my waist, and he turned us suddenly without breaking the kiss. Now, my back was against the door. I pulled away from him, my chest heaving.   
  
Desire began to take over as I concentrated on the feeling of warm flesh against warm flesh, the way our shallow breathing seemed to echo in the quiet bathroom. Our eyes met, and he stared sexily at me. I felt my legs turning to jelly. His hand moved toward my hair, pulling pins from my locks, causing my hair to fall to my shoulders in frosty waves. He seemed to watch mesmerized as the strands of hair ran through his fingers, causing the scent of apricot shampoo to invade my senses.  
  
The air in the room was charged with a sexual energy. When was the last time I had felt this type of visceral power? He lowered his lips to mine again, and I met his kiss like a head-on collision. He slipped one knee between my thighs, widening them, lifting me slightly. He tickled the small of back with his fingers, and I shivered against him. Was this what they called raw sensuality? I sound like I'm quoting a bad erotica novel. I arched my back against him. I didn't know if Roger was still in the window or not, but who the hell cared?  
  
Pain hit me – sudden and vengeful. It was an angry—and dare I say it—jealous feeling. I moaned painfully, pulling away from Logan. He set me on the floor, gingerly. "I'm sorry." I said. I wouldn't look at Logan as I fumbled with the door; I couldn't get out of the bathroom quick enough. I walked quickly past the small crowd, not stopping to look for Jean-Paul, not caring. I was getting out of there. I only paused momentarily to pick up my purse, which, thankfully, hadn't been rummaged in.   
  
"Where are you going?" I heard Jean-Paul ask behind me. I turned on him, furiously.  
  
"I'm getting out of here. I need some air." I spat at him.   
  
"I'll come with you. They'll be here soon." I guess he was talking about the stronger vampires. "I can't protect you if I'm not with you."  
  
"I don't need you to come with me, and I certainly don't need your protection. Why don't you stay here with your kind?" I said, angrily, opening the door and slipping out into the cool night. I'd forgotten my jacket inside, but it didn't really matter. I didn't really need it. I didn't get cold; I didn't get hot. My body adjusted to the climate. I insisted on dressing with the seasons because how funny would it look if I ran around in shorts in the dead of winter?  
  
I walked around in the yard, the wind rustling my now loose hair. There was a hint of something in the air – power. Lightning roared above me for a second and the wind picked up speed. I could feel that power touching my skin, flowing through me. It felt as natural as the wind through my hair. I knew this power, knew it with every fiber of my being.  
  
Someone was trying to raise the dead.


	12. Chapter Twelve

12.

I followed the feel of the power, wondering who could be trying to raise the dead when there was such a fun party taking place inside the house. It was taking place right here in good old middle-class, USA.  And they say satire is dead. This night just couldn't get any more interesting, could it? First, a party catered by the vampires, and now, someone was trying to raise the dead – and I stress _trying_. Their attempts hadn't been too successful. There's a certain feel that you get when someone has been successful in reanimating a corpse.

            The power beckoned me, made my nerve-endings tingle. I followed it out of the yard to a graveyard not too far away from the house. Strange. I hadn't noticed this before. I entered. Probably not the smartest decision I've ever made, but, nonetheless, I entered the graveyard.I saw a group of vampires huddled around something.

            "Where is the zombie, mortal?" I heard Christie say to someone. I walked cautiously toward the scene, clearing my throat. I know they didn't need a warning I was there, but I felt obliged. They all turned to look at me. I felt like shouting 'hi' at them, complete with the fake grin and the spastic waving. They might not like that too much, though. Christie smiled at me, capriciously. I walked closer. _Play it safe, Ororo. Don't get them riled up. If push comes to shove, zap them and run like hell._ I said to myself.

            "Come to play?" another vampire asked. I didn't say anything. Playing it safe, remember? They all moved as one body, revealing what they were huddled around. I saw Ken crouching near a grave in obvious fear. His eyes were huge like saucers.

            Christie turned on Ken again, moving a little closer to Ken. "Where is it?" she hissed at him.

            "I… I can't raise it. Too old." He said softly.

            Christie snorted. Then, she kneeled and hissed in his ear. "You're weak and pathetic." The atmosphere seemed to thicken. Goddess, I was about to witness a killing. It was in the air, thick, impenetrable, malicious. He looked up at me; his eyes were pleading.

            "Wait!" I said before the decisive strike could be dealt. They all looked at me. Christie rose from her kneel, looking a threateningly.

            "What is it, mortal?" she asked.

            "You can't kill him." I said simply. Serve and protect. I should have been a police officer. What I supposed to do? Stand there and watch them rip his throat out? That would have made me no better than them.

            "What business of it is yours what we do with him? Do you wish to accompany him in his death?" It was a statement rather than a question. She intended to kill me. We'd just see about that.

            "You can't touch me." I replied, stepping closer to her. Our eyes clashed. Defiance poured from both of us. "She won't let you touch me."

            Christie blanched, but she stood her ground. "You're playing with fire. One day, mortal, the master will cast you aside. And when she does, I'll make you sorry," she spat at me.

            "Not if I make you sorry first." That slipped I hadn't really meant to say that. I was trying to keep things from getting violent, but at the rate I was going, things weren't looking too good. "I want to talk to Ken. He will raise your zombie, and you will let him go." I was on a roll. Once you got into the tough woman act, it was hard to stop.

            She turned from me, her fury radiating from her, and I kneeled beside Ken. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He didn't look like he was doing so well. There wasn't any evidence of physical harm, but some hurts ran a lot deeper than the physical.

            "Yes, I am." Relief tinged his voice, and I felt a little better about my decision in helping him. Sure, I hadn't like how he handled the zombie situation in Sakura's lair, but I wasn't going to watch him die. There was this unspoken loyalty between animators, just as there was between mutants.

            "You are going to raise their zombie." I said to him. Command, not questioning, was in my tone. He looked up at me as if I was crazy.

            "There is nothing you can do." He said despondently.

            He couldn't just give up. I wouldn't let him. "You _are_ going to raise that zombie, and I am going to help you. Then, we're going to walk away from here unscathed."

            "What if we fail?" he asked.

            We wouldn't fail because I won't let that happen. There was something about me when I went into command mode that wouldn't allow me to settle for failure. Failure was unfathomable to me at a time like this. "We won't. I swear it. We're going to share our power."

            "You're a focus?" he asked, incredulously.

            "Yes." I could have explained to him how this was in my blood. If I hadn't been a mutant, I still would have been powerful. It was my preordained right, passed down from generation to generation. So, I guess, anyway you look at it, I would have never been "normal".

            I turned my attention back to Christie. She looked from Ken to me with hatred. She had heard the whole conversation. There was no need for me to repeat what was about to happen. "Raise the zombie, mortals, or else you both die. No matter what you say." She said resolutely, and I knew she meant it. I really didn't like her. When this was over, I would take much pleasure in killing her.

            "We're going to use ourselves as the sacrifice," I explained to him, ignoring Christie. He looked startled, but he didn't ask any questions. We couldn't use the goat he had been provided. It was already dead. Couldn't kill the same thing twice. And we had nothing else besides ourselves. Some zombies needed sacrifices bigger than just an animal, anyway, and perhaps this zombie was one of them. "Bring the equipment. I'm assuming you have a clean knife and the ointment."

            "Yes," he answered. He rifled in the duffel bag not far away. He produced a meticulously clean knife—or at least for my sake I hoped it was meticulously clean—and a jar of ointment. I opened the top and inhale: Sandalwood to keep us focused. Eucalyptus for protection. Sage for wisdom. Thyme and Lemon Verbena as an added bonus.

            "Are we really going to sacrifice ourselves?" he finally managed to ask. "We'd lose too much blood to raise a zombie."

            "You've already made a blood sacrifice. We're just going to offer a little more, for more power. We don't have to kill ourselves for this thing. Even the simplest infliction of injury is considered a small death." I answered. He didn't look too thrilled about it. What's a little blood missing when you were going to be killed by vampires? "Remove your shirt. Watch me."

            He looked as if he would protest. I know it was freezing, but what was a little frostbite compared to death? I pressed the knife to the upper part of my arm, a little above the elbow on the outside of my arm. I closed my eyes, submitting supplications to the goddess. Then, I pulled the blade across my skin, pulling in a sharp intake of breath. I was shaking when I opened my eyes, but I gave the knife back to Ken and nodded. He hesitated a moment. All those warnings about blood transmitted diseases didn't make sharing a blade seem all that pleasing.

            "Same place, but on your right arm." I said, my voice strained. He mirrored my earlier actions, even asking his God to protect him. "Now, we have to put the cuts together." I bent my arm at the elbow, so that my fingers touched my face, making the blood flow a little more. He mimicked me. Then, put his cut against my own. I wanted to make a stupid a comment about us being blood siblings, but I didn't think this was neither the time nor the place for it. Ken looked at me with fear imbedded deep in his eyes, waiting for me to continue.

            "We offer the sacrifice of ourselves, our essence, our blood, to the earth. Life for death and from death springs life. Rise! Rise! We command you. Yield to our call. Surrender yourself to us." The sky roared above us again. Electricity made my body tingle. I could feel his power starting to flow from him to me, and I'm sure he could feel my power as well. There was something orgasmic about sharing power with another person. As I felt his power consume me, I wondered why he wasn't able to raise the zombie. He was powerful – very powerful. I stood and he followed. We walked the previously made blood circle. More power rushed to us.

            We kneeled again and I smeared blood across his forehead, cheeks, chest, leaving a blood handprint over his heart. I noticed a gris-gris wrapped around his arm; malevolent power rang from it. What could he be doing with a gris-gris? I pondered this as he mimicked my actions, his hand lingering a little too long over my heart. A jolt of power made my heart throb. I rubbed ointment over the blood on his skin, and it swallowed it, greedily. Then, together we rubbed blood and ointment onto the headstone. I read the name on the headstone.

            "Arise, Catherine Griswold! We call you from your grave. We command you." I shouted over the howling wind. I could feel our power commingling. I still didn't under why he wasn't he able to call Catherine from her grave? We called to Catherine repeatedly, commanding her to hear our call. The earth trembled beneath us, the ground split. A hand clutched the air, a second hand followed. My stomach quavered in response, my heart thudding with something I couldn't name.

            Another jolt of power from him ran into me, sending memories flooding into my head. I looked at him horrified. I knew why he seemed so familiar. It wasn't just because he had been an animator. I went to his funeral. The zombie was still struggling to bring herself out of her confine while I digested this information. He was dead, but he wasn't a vampire. He wasn't a zombie. The gris-gris. My eyes wandered back to it. Oh Goddess, what was he sacrificing to it? What was he giving it to keep him alive? It couldn't be good whatever it was.

            A couple of months ago, I went to a funeral for a fellow animator. I didn't know the guy, but being as we were both animators, it was right to attend the funeral. I remember a crying, attractive blonde woman, screaming the deceased's name over and over again. The corpse rose from the ground with a piercing shriek, and I pulled away from Ken.

            Catherine's skin was gray with a leathery quality. Her hair long, white-blonde wisps. Her dress a simple, black piece. She didn't look real. I knew she was around 75 years dead. But that didn't bother me as much as the new fact I figured out about Ken. That's why he hadn't been able to raise her. The dead can't raise the dead – at least not the long dead. The new dead, perhaps, but not the old dead. My stomach was dropping rapidly. The zombie clamored toward us, her callers.

            "You're dead." I said to him shakily. He wasn't a zombie, he wasn't a vampire, and he wasn't a wereanimal. What the hell was he? I looked at the corpse I just help him raise, still trying to fathom this revelation. The gris-gris. Oh Goddess. It was keeping him alive, and it needed blood in order to do that. I touched it, but he pulled away.

            "They won't be missed, Ororo." He said as if reading my thoughts. He was going around killing innocent people to keep himself alive. I was disgusted with myself, with what I had done for him.

            "I should have let them kill you."

            "Can you kill what's already dead?" He asked.

            "You feed it." I hissed at him. He held his arm out to the zombie. She looked at him, sniffed the blood, but didn't feed.

            He smiled with too much confidence, then, no longer the simpering human I had saved from death. "I can't feed her. You'll have to do it." Son-of-a… I offered the zombie my arm and she drank like a child from a mother. What had I done? I jerked away from the zombie.  "The circle is open." He said.

            I had forgotten all about the vampires. What did they need with a zombie, anyway? I stood and started to leave. Christie grasped my arm firmly. "Why did you let the zombie feed from you? Zombies don't need blood." She said. I wanted to say something sarcastic like she was so gosh darn smart, but just then, I wanted to get away from Ken.

            "Because I was the sacrifice," I said. I was thoroughly disgusted by this time. "The ritual had already gone to hell. A new sacrifice was needed." I pulled away from her and continued my trek back, but I heard a scared screech from the zombie. I paused to see what was going on. They were closing ranks on her. She was trying to run, but she couldn't. What did I do? What was I supposed to do for her? I couldn't let them hurt her. But it was her or me. Laughter floated on the wind, distant, melodic. Vega's laugh. Was he laughing at me from wherever he was?

            I froze. This was one of those rare times where I didn't know what I should do, but I knew what I couldn't let happen. I couldn't let them torture her.

"Hello, mortal." I heard behind me. I didn't turn to face the voice.

"Make them stop, Sakura." I said. "Make them stop or I will."

            "And do you think I'll let you do that? Don't you know I could snap your neck right now?" She said this with all the gullibility of Shirley Temple. I turned to face her slowly. "Why your eyes are the loveliest shade of milk-white." Beautiful, girl child. Totally androgynous in appearance and as deadly as a viper. I couldn't make them stop and protect myself from her too. However, the longer I looked at her, the more imperfect she became.

            "What are you staring at?" Her voice was sweet enough to cause to a toothache. Fear began to seep into my mind. She was starting with the mind games, the mental dissection. I buried my nails into my palms, trying to shock myself back into reality. Too bad I wasn't closer to a headstone. Punching cement worked wonders in helping you keep in touch with reality.

            "Make them stop." I repeated.

            "Why? It's just a smelly, old zombie. Are you worrying about them feeding off her? The dead can't feed from the dead." She said. Didn't I know that. Point in case being Ken, but the statement wasn't completely accurate.

            "Ghouls feed off the dead." I said. Fear was starting to suffocate me. I heard the zombie scream again. I willed my hands to cover my ears, but they wouldn't obey. I couldn't do anything for her now. This was all my fault. "Make them stop, please."

            "Is it that important to you?" Her voice was no longer childlike.

            "Because they shouldn't. That zombie did nothing to them. Why should they get their thrills out of torturing her?" I spat before I could stop myself.

            "What are you willing to sacrifice for her?"

            "I don't know." I said.

            "Let me taste your blood and I will free the zombie."

            Was she out of her mind? "You can't bite me."

            "Then, let me play with your mind." She said all sugary-sweet again. Oh, hell no. I shook my head. "Then, just a taste. I'll sip from the wound." She nodded at the cut on my arm. The zombie screamed again. I moved closer to her, offering my arm. I can't believe I was doing this. "It's done." She said. I looked toward the scene. The vampires were backing away from the zombie now. She touched a tongue to the wound on my arm. I jerked. Goddess. I had about three seconds before I went into hysterics.

            "Do you want me to touch you?"

            "No." I said. Honesty is the best policy.

            She stared me at me. "Where is the scar on my face?" she asked.

            "Above your eye." I answered after I looked at her face. I could feel anger start to permeate from her. Was it something I said?

            "Who did it?" she hissed.

            I shook my head. What was she talking about? Who gave her the scar? How was I supposed to know? "I don't know how you got the scar." I said stupidly.

            "Don't play dumb with me, human. Who did it?" she demanded again. Her grip was tight on my wrist. The bones shifted. So, this wasn't about the damn scar.

            "Don't hurt her! You said you wouldn't hurt her!" I heard Jean-Paul's voice in the darkness. Moments later, he emerged from the darkness. He walked toward Sakura as if he actually thought he could do something against her.

            "Jean-Paul, please, don't do anything stupid." Suffice to say I wasn't angry with him anymore. "Just let me handle this."

            He wasn't listening to me. He was concentrated on her. "You said you wouldn't hurt her. I won't let you hurt her." He continued. Where was the bravado coming from? And why now? Didn't he know who he was messing with?

            He stepped closer to Sakura. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand. I hadn't even seen it move. Her fingernails sank into Jean-Paul's wrist, blood pooled around her nails. Then she pushed him. It was barely a flick of her wrist, but he went flying into a tree. She licked the blood from her fingernails.

            "Who did it?" She asked again, licking her fingers like a kid licking left over sugar from their hand.

            I was near hysterics. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." I chanted over and over again. Jean-Paul was holding his wrist. If she could do that to him, I didn't even want to think about what she could do to me.

            "Who did it?" she screamed. Oh Goddess, I didn't know who did it. I didn't even know who she was talking about, what she was talking about. If I knew, I swear I would tell her.

            "Psalms the 104th chapter and the 35th verse says, 'Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more.'" I heard a man scream outside the graveyard.

            Sakura chuckled. "The Church of Eternal life," she said, releasing my arm.

            "What are they doing here?" I asked.

            "They're breaking up the party," she said. I turned to look in the direction of the screaming that was filling the air. Somebody's neighbors were going to be angry tonight. Then another thought came to mind. Logan. I turned back to Sakura but she was frolicking away. Every time I blinked, she was further away, even though I didn't see her move. I didn't see Christie and the gang, anymore.

            "Jean-Paul, are you okay?" I asked, kneeling next to him.

            "She crushed the bones in my wrist. I think."

            "I have to go back over there. I have to help someone." I said urgently. "Are you capable of helping me?"

            He grimaced, but he nodded grimly. I ran out of the cemetery, back into the yard where it had turned into a battle zone. The members of the church were attacking the members of the party. I didn't see Logan anywhere. I had to get in the house and get my purse, my keys. I managed to make it safely inside the deserted house and get my things. I ran back outside. When I went back outside, a vampire was shaking a familiar figure nearby. It was the kid. What was the kid doing here? Please, don't tell me he was a vampire freak on top of everything.

            He was shaking the kid like a rag doll. I hope he hadn't been stupid enough to try to pick a vampire's pocket. I pulled my handgun out of my purse, but I decided better of it. No one else had guns. No need for unwanted attention. I didn't want to draw attention to myself just yet. I opted for the knife. I ran at the vampire, thrusting the knife in the side of his neck. He roared and dropped the boy. I pulled the boy away from him, huddling him behind me. I could smell the burning of flesh. The silver was burning him.

            "Run, child." I commanded the boy, but the boy pushed his way from behind me, touching his fingers to the knife the vampire was vainly trying to dislodge from his throat. The knife glowed. I backed away from it instinctively. If he did what I think he did, I had to get away quick before I was covered in vampire brains. The boy scuttled back toward me and we moved away from the vampire. I only looked back once just in time to see the vampire's head blow. I turned back the scene before us. Three humans and a vampire were coming toward us.

            I pulled the gun. It was enough to make the humans stop, but the vampire scoffed at me. "What are you going to do with that?" he laughed, and his companions laughed nervously with him. Aim for the heart. Shoot to kill. I reminded myself. I squeezed the trigger. The vampire grabbed his chest, falling to his knees.

            "Silver bullets." I said calmly, turning my gun on his three companions. "Who's next?" Jean-Paul materialized at my side. I offered him my purse. "Get the car." More vampires and humans rallied. Members from the freak party ran. Bunch of cowards. Leave me with all the work.

            "Can you take us all?" another vampire asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the boy holding something. It looked like a playing card. Weren't we the misfit pair? And I still hadn't found Logan.

            "Every last one of you." I said. There was a muffled cry. I heard someone squealing in terror. Then, I saw Logan appear.

            "She ain't by herself either," he growled charging two of the humans. Then, the kid's card went whizzing, blowing up at someone's feet. He stepped back startled. Then, I walked toward them, commanding the winds to obey my call, forcing them back, even the vampires.

            "They're mutants!" I heard one of them yell. "She's going to kill you all."

            Kill them I would not. Keep them at bay long enough for us to escape I would. They were clinging to any stationary thing. When we were close to the car, I told the boy to get in. Jean-Paul had let down the top, so the kid easily jumped into the car. Another advantage of having a drop-top. I called to Logan, telling him to get in the car. We were getting the hell out of here. Let them burn down Rog's house if they wanted to.

            Logan hopped in the backseat, and I followed him. Jean-Paul started backing out the driveway, but there was a vampire standing not far behind the car. He would stop us if he wanted to. I reached for the shotgun I so strategically hid. "Do you know how to use that thing?" Logan asked.

            "Now's a good time as any to find out." I said, taking aim. Aim for the heart. I said to myself. I squeezed the trigger. The butt of the gun nearly ripped my arm out of the socket. I was going to feel that one in the morning, but we were safe. I couldn't help grimacing as Jean-Paul ran over the vampire's limp body. We didn't say anything until we stopped in front of Vermillion Nights.

            "Are you going to be okay?" I asked Jean-Paul. He nodded.

            "They'll take care of me here," he said.

            "You were very brave." I told him. And he had been. Extremely stupid, but brave. I kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks."

            Whoa-ho-ho. Now, there was a first. I had kissed a vampire. I thought I saw him blush, but it could have been the neon red glowing from the sign. Either way, I could tell he was flattered. He said his goodbyes, and I took over driving. It was just Logan, the kid, and me, now. We tried to get the kid to talk, but he wouldn't. He seemed like he was in awe or something. Did I blame him? It wasn't everyday that you were attacked by vampires, met a woman who could control the wind and a man with metal claws, and lived to tell the tale.

            At the next red light, the kid was out of the car, running. Logan started after him. "Let him go. If he wants our help, he'll come to us." I said, tugging Logan's arm. It was weird touching Logan after what happened back at that house.

            "About what happened at the party…" He started.

            "Let's not talk about that." I said, knowing that he meant the bathroom incident. I didn't want to talk about that. I already felt silly enough about it, and I didn't need another problem to add to my growing list of problems.

            "What's goin' on?" he asked bluntly.

            "I've already told you." I said weakly.

            "No, you told me what you wanted me to hear. Now, I want to hear the truth." There was no arguing with that, was there? So, I started over. Telling him every single thing that happened. I even told him about Vega sharing his power, but I omitted the part about bloody dreams and the burning eyes. I couldn't tell him that. I expected him to be angry with me. He was angry, but not with me, but I had a feeling a few people were going to be sorry if I didn't do something quick.

            "Don't do anything rash. We have to protect Jean." I said. "After this over, you can kill all the people and vampires you want, but right now, we have Jean to worry about. Triage has her at his beck and call. He could make her do anything at this point." I was being sarcastic about the killing. Really.

            "So, it's we now?" he asked.

            "Look, you don't have to help me. I've told you this from the beginning. I can handle this on my own, but you're the only person who really knows what's going on and…"

            "And you're acceptin' my help now."

            "I guess you could that in so many words." I said. If I had to trust someone, Logan was the person of choice.

            We slipped into the mansion, and I took refuge in my room. It wasn't particularly late, but I needed time to think. Besides, I hurt. All I wanted to do was drag into the bathroom, take a hot shower, and sleep as I've never slept before. I couldn't concentrate on one thing while I was in the shower. There was too much going on, the vampire killings, Jean, unknown compulsive overeating, the kid, Logan, Ken and the gris-gris, Vega. It was driving me mad.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Note: I never put notes at the beginning of a chapter, anymore, but I want it to be noted that there are some changes on chapter 12 for those who read it in its original format, but not many (in my opinion). I deleted the dream sequence from the last chapter and reworked it into this. :) Enjoy. Thanks for hanging in there. To Sparkle: Damn you to hell and back for being such a heavy influence on this chapter. K, I love you, bye-bye!**

**13.**

The table was lavishly decorated with its pristine, white tablecloth lined in gold. Black candelabras glowed with a dim light, barely illuminating the large room. It was all stone and wood. Food filled the table. There was everything from strawberries to pizza. I couldn't help but frown at the sight of the pizza. Nearly everything on the table was something I had consumed in the last twenty-four hours. I was in some kind of noble dining hall; it looked like a scene straight out of a medieval movie if you factored out the pizza. Quaint.

Vega sat at the head of the table in an ornately decorated chair. He sat in the chair, leisurely, with all the élan of a brat prince. Above his head, on the wall, were the words _Justus et Pius_. I just didn't get it. I still didn't understand what that phrase had to do with him, and I may never know what it meant in regards to him. Did it really mean anything, or was it just a trick of my mind? He stood then, and I could see that he was dressed in 15th century garb. On any other man, that would have been banal. On him, it was living poetry… or not-so-living poetry. Oh, never mind.

I wouldn't let his beauty thwart my plans to find out what was going on. Why was he contacting me in my dreams? How was he getting into my dreams in the first place? Why me, period? I'm sure there were plenty of women in this city who would love to be the object of his fascination. I, however, was not one of them. "Where the hell are you? What are you doing to me? What's going on? Why is Sakura mad at me? What did I do to deserve this?" I asked angrily, slamming my fists on the table, standing up in righteous indignation.

"Strawberries were my favorite delicacy when I was alive," he said, as he picked up one of the strawberries, ignoring my questions. Wrapping his lips around it sensuously, obviously enjoying the fruit. I couldn't help giving him a questioning look. Vampires didn't eat solid food. They were on a pretty strict diet. Well, they could eat solid foods, but they couldn't taste it. It could even be quite disgusting to them. However, from the way Vega was tonguing that strawberry, one would think he could taste it.

"Please, sit, Ororo." Vega said with a languid tone. Despite its calmness, his voice still had a lot of command. I sat hesitantly. "You know, I'm the second strongest vampire in this city, now."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise at this statement. "How is that _even_ possible? Sakura said you were the third strongest vampire, and I haven't heard of any other master vampires being murdered."

"And you never will. The body hasn't been found by the police, and according to the information I gathered, it never will be found by them." He said with a shrug. How does one go about gathering information while they're trapped in a casket? I nearly asked. I wanted to ask, but it might seem impudent. I probably didn't really want to know, anyway.

I didn't know what to say. Vega seemed quite pleased about this revelation, and he should be. There was only one person standing in the way of him being the strongest vampire in the city, but what if the murderer targeted him next? Was he even considering that as he gloated about his new status in the vampire community? He didn't seem too worried about his welfare. So, why should I worry about his life?

"But let's not worry ourselves with such matters. The night is young, and so are we." He picked up his bowl of strawberries and walked toward me. I bristled in my seat. Not strawberries. Anything, but the goddamn strawberries. I'd even eat the pizza.

"You? Young? By whose definition?" He was pushing 500-years-old, and he still considered himself young. Well, I guess if I looked that good at 500-years-old… what was I thinking?

I could feel the dread swelling in my stomach, as he neared me. Our dream meetings have been very bittersweet at best. Vega was like a snake – beautiful, yet dangerous. I never knew what to expect of these meetings. Maybe he would try to kill me in this dream. _Ooh kinky_. I looked at him warily when he stopped beside my chair.

He placed the bowl on the table and kneeled beside me, placing a hand on my knee. I tried to discreetly move my leg away from his touch, but it wasn't working. He looked into my eyes. I almost looked away out of habit, but I held his gaze. He was giving me the soulful eyes. Goddess, not the soulful eyes. I didn't even know vampires could give those kinds of humane looks. I looked away from him at the sign above his chair.

"Do you want me to?" he asked. My eyes found his again, and I searched them for a clue. What was he talking about?

"Want you to do what?" I asked with all the naïveté of a newborn lamb.

"Kill you." He said smoothly.

What? I pushed the chair back with a hard shove. "If you so much as try, I swear I will resist you with everything I have." I spat at him. I would fight him to the death if… Laughter rang throughout the room. Was he laughing at me? This was no laughing matter. He just asked me if I wanted him to kill me.

"I only asked because you thought it." He said.

Goddess, he was somehow reading my mind. "Get out of my head, Vega." I said, imagining brick walls and electric fences – mental blocks. Rudimentary, but it worked sometime. I had to be more careful.

"Just enjoying it while it lasted." He said with a shrug. Vampires, everything was a game with them. He stood again and picked up the bowl. "Sakura will kill us both." He said a little happily. I wasn't particularly happy about the idea of Sakura killing me. "We have to stop her."

"_We?_ What do you mean _we_" I was the one putting in all the damn worked while he went on an extended vacation in a coffin. Granted, I'd rather take a beating than be in a coffin, but still, I was doing the work. He was just taking a long nap.

He offered me a strawberry. It was dipped in something drippy and red. I gagged. Blood. I took the bowl from him. All of the strawberries were covered in blood. "Drink up. It will give you strength." He laughed. I wasn't falling for that one. I threw the bowl toward the wall. It smashed. I woke up. I was not getting this at all. What was going on? And Sakura's question rang in ears.

_ Who did it?_

Just once, I would like to wake up to a normal morning. I would like someone to bring me breakfast in bed, allow me to read the morning paper. I should get to scratch my unmentionables and think about turning over and going back to sleep. I shouldn't have to wake up to meet with Scott. Scott _should not_ be the first thing a person sees in a morning unless your name is Jean Grey. That goes double for Scott in command mode.

So, guess what I was doing this morning?

Scott stood before Jean and me with his hands on his hips. He was in command mode. You could tell from his tone, his stance. I popped a Sun Chip (yes, I was eating Sun Chips this early in the morning) in my mouth and sighed, still thinking about that perfect morning and all the reasons why I would never be able to obtain it unless I changed my name and moved to Aruba.

I wonder what the weather in Aruba was like this time of year. What did it matter to me, anyway? I could tolerate the weather anywhere, but if it wasn't warm, I wouldn't get to see all the eye candy in their swimsuits. I wonder what Logan would look like on the beach in Aruba in a Speedo. What about Vega? Like Vega would ever be caught dead at the beach. Haha, caught dead, get it? Okay, I know that wasn't funny. Ooh, Logan and Vega in Speedos. Bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts. Speedos are more evil than vampires, anyway.

"Ororo, are you listening to me?" Scott asked, cutting through my thoughts. Dammit, can't a girl have any fun around here?

I put on my best diplomatic look. "Yes, Scott. I'm sure this is a very important matter, and you have my undivided attention." _Half of it, anyway_, I added silently.

"I don't know why you felt the need to hide this from the team. How long did you think you could hide your conditions? And Jean, why would you want to hide something this important from me?"

Oh Goddess, did he know about the vampires? Had Logan betrayed my confidence? No, he wouldn't do that. Then, how did Scott know?

"Scott, I…" I trailed trying to find my words, to tell him that Jean didn't know her memory had been altered. I was the only one to be blamed here. I had gotten us all into this mess. Wait… did he say "conditions"? What did he mean "conditions"?

"Conditions? What are you talking about, Scott?" Jean asked on cue, rummaging through my bag of Sun Chips. Greedy heifer and I say that with the most loving conviction possible.

"There's no need to pretend, anymore, you two. I know you're in a difficult stage, right now." Goddess, if I didn't know any better, I would think Scott was giving us "the talk".

"I must side with Jean on this one, Scott, what are you talking about?" I asked, shaking my head. What was going on here? Scott was on a totally different plane right now.

"It's obvious you two are pregnant, and I'm disappointed you two were trying to hide this." He said.

Jean started choking on a chip beside me. That's exactly how I felt, but fortunately for me, I wasn't stuffing my face with chips. I patted Jean on the back. "Pregnant!" she managed to say between her coughing fits.

"The sickness, the weird cravings, the fatigue –"

"Scott, I assure you that I'm not pregnant." Jean interrupted, still trying to suppress her cough.

"Nor am I." I added. I couldn't be angry with Scott. We had been exhibiting some pretty weird habits as of late. Yesterday, I saw Jean looking at the ice cream and chips. I remember hoping desperately she wasn't about to try what I thought she was. I left the kitchen. I just couldn't watch.

"But–"

"Scott, I'm about as pregnant as you are." I said and smirked at him when his cheeks reddened slightly.

"Ororo, that's not funny." He frowned. _Nothing ever is with you, Scott._ I wanted to say, but I didn't. Why would I say something so spiteful to Scott anyway?

I stood from my seat. "There's nothing else to discuss here. I know there have been some weird things going on lately, but we've dealt with worse, right? I'm not pregnant, and Jean says she isn't as well. That's all that can be said. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to attend to." I said firmly before I left the room.

I had other things to worry about like what was I going to do about Ken? I know he wasn't a first priority, but he was killing people. Those who won't be missed. Who exactly would that be? What if he was killing runaways, or homeless people, or even mutants?

This was getting ridiculous, not to mention complicated. Why couldn't they have picked someone else for this job? There had to be more agreeable people out there to work with than me. Besides, they weren't necessarily going out of their way to help me either. I mean, they hire… No, that isn't right. They coerce me into taking this job, but they don't even try to help me. Don't they even care what's coming after them? If they didn't care, why the hell should I?

During most of my classes, I was preoccupied, which made the children happy. When I was preoccupied, that meant reading time, better known to them as bullshit time. They whispered to each other and passed notes, believing that I was completely oblivious. I tried to focus on them. I really did. I hated when work interfered with my teaching, but there were a million different thought running through my head.

Ken was the dominant thought at the moment. I had heard of all kinds of things, but what kind of power granted that kind of immortality? What bothered me even more is I didn't know what he was giving it. Who else knew about this? Had he gone back to his wife? How had he explained that one to her? I didn't have any proof to give to the police, so I couldn't turn him in. Sneaky bastard. I gripped my pencil tightly as a thought pressed urgently on my mind. _I might have to kill Ken._ The pencil broke in my grasp.

The hushed whispers of the children silenced for a moment. Curious eyes turned toward me, and I smiled tightly at them, quickly putting the broken pencil in my desk drawer. My pager vibrated against my hip, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I couldn't keep going like this. Something had to give. I took a few deep breaths before looking at the page. It was an unknown number, but I had my suspicions on who it might be.

I called the number back after my class. "This is Ryu," a voice said on the other end. Ryu? He must be doing Sakura's bidding. It wasn't exactly as if she could come out and enjoy the sunshine herself, and she was probably still angry with me about the events of the previous night. Ryu didn't seem like a bad guy, though; he seem level-headed considering who his master was. Besides, I stood a better chance of living if Ryu decided to attack me. Sure, he was a human companion, but he was still human. Therefore, he was much easier to kill if I had to.

We met on neutral ground, a populated café. He was already there when I arrived. Punctuality, had to like that in a man. I expected him to give me some terse message from the devil herself, but I was pleasantly surprised when offered to buy me a mocha. He didn't talk about a lot of anything. He told me a little about history; he didn't delve too much into how he met Sakura. I think he could tell that I didn't really want to talk about her, especially with the way things have been going lately.

It was just a nice chat. I think he was hungry for real human companionship. Look at the people he had to put up with. Christie, the bitch. Sakura, the psycho bitch. Vega, the bastard. Ken, the living dead bastard who killed to stay alive. If I were in his situation, I would want some real human friends, too. Before we parted, he covered my hands with his own. I could tell he wasn't trying to flirt. Quite the contrary, he was trying to be sincere. "Ororo, there will come a time when you'll have to choose. Promise me you won't hesitate."

"I don't think I follow you," I said.

"I can't go into much detail. I don't want to give her more ammunition to use against you. Do whatever you have to do, tap into whatever little darkness there is in your heart and…" He trailed off. He stood up suddenly.

"Ryu? I don't understand." I said standing, following him as he walked out the café. "Talk to me!"

He stopped and put his hands on my shoulders. "Ororo, I can't tell you anymore than that. Please, try to understand." He continued to wherever it was he was going, and this time I just watched him go. All these cryptic messages, how did they expect me to keep up with them all?

_We are one._

_ Who did it?_

_Don't hesitate._

_One ring to rule them all.___

Oops, last one doesn't apply to me. Fine! I'll stop making corny jokes now. Where is all this corny sense of humor coming from? But I digress. Seriously, the baddies in my life were way too vague for me to follow. As I started to make my way home, my pager went off again. This time it was Bayman. I called him from a payphone.

"Bayman!" he barked into the phone. Tension lined his voice. I felt my own heart drop. This couldn't be good. I could tell from his tone.

"It's Munroe." I said. I braced myself for whatever it was he was going to spring on me.

"Munroe, get down here, now. There's been another murder."

A/N: Short I know, but this is really a filler chapter. Another update will be coming very soon, as in the next couple of hours. It shouldn't take longer than a couple of days at the most. I have a lot of time, now, so look for more from me. As always, excuse my mistakes. I had a beta reader, but I haven't contacted her in months due to my own busy schedule. If you're still out there and willing to read, I promise to keep you busy. -Tempest


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**14.**

On the ride to the location, I kept trying to mentally reach out to Vega. "It better not be you, you undead bastard. You're too good to die like that." I muttered under my breath. But if it was him, shouldn't something have happened to me? Shouldn't I have at least felt some sort of separation from him? Maybe if it was him, things would be a lot less confusing, but I didn't want it to be him.

The second person who came to mind was Jean-Paul, but he wasn't a master vampire. That didn't really matter, though. Maybe the squad that came for us last night had gotten hands on him. I didn't want it to be him, either. I hated to admit it, but he wasn't so bad most of the time. He was a bit of a victim, and he was a little confused, but he was an okay guy to be a vampire.

From what I gathered, this scene was a little more gruesome than the other murders. Bayman hadn't wanted to tell me much over the phone. I don't think I blame him, and secretly, I was glad he hadn't told me too much over the phone. If it was as bad as I was expecting, I wanted to see for myself. I didn't like people to tell me the bad news beforehand.

When I finally arrived at the scene, there were officers everywhere. I never understood why so many police officers had to be at any given murder at any given time. Was it some unwritten law of law enforcement that said that a billion officers needed to be present? So many people at one place was a crime scene contamination waiting to happen.

A news van was parked nearby. The police had been successful so far in keeping this out of the media, but it looks like all that was about to change. And with media coverage came the higher-uppers breathing down your neck. Trust me, it wouldn't be long before Bayman's superiors started screaming for him to do something about all these murders.

A reporter was already shoving his mic down Bayman's throat; Bayman looked like he could choke the man any second now. I almost couldn't wait to see this one on the news. It was sure to attract a large following, and then the media would really be rolling in. I made a mental note to myself to stay as close to the bloody body as I could. That was a surefire way to keep from being filmed.

I flashed my crime scene ID to the officer guarding the "entrance". He let me through with little fuss. There have been times when officers would give me a hard time about coming on a crime scene, especially the new grunts. I spotted the body the minute I stepped under the tape. I really couldn't tell much about it from that point. I froze. I didn't want to go closer. What if…?

Bishop was looking at the covered body. Lucas Bishop was another mutant I knew. The professor had offered him a spot on the team, but Bishop declined. Seems like a lot of people didn't want to a superhero these days. He thought he was better suited for this kind of work. He helped us out from time to time on missions and acted as an inside man when we needed information, but he didn't want to become a permanent fixture on the team.

I clenched my hands at my side and walked toward the body. I stopped next to Bishop. He tried to smile at me, but he couldn't manage one. I knew that Bishop was a hard worker, very dedicated to his job. I wonder who he had pissed off to get put on this case. He should have been cracking something high profile, but he was here. This kind of work was considered punishment for officers.

"Ororo," he nodded at me. He didn't say anything else as he pulled the sheet away from the body. He hadn't even asked me if I was ready. Thanks a lot, pal.

I pulled away, then peered curiously down at the body. It was a vampire female. Her body was twisted as if someone tried to bend her into a pretzel. There was a gaping mouth of a hole where her heart should have been. Her stomach had been ripped open like the mutant's chest cavity. There were scratches up and down her arms. She had put up a fight. There was something missing.

I turned to Bishop. "Where's the head?" It wasn't a clean sever. Someone had ripped this vampire's head away from her body. My stomach lurched. _Don't lose it now, girl._ I said to myself. I looked at this kind of stuff frequently. I had to keep it together.

He led me to another smaller lump covered with plastic. "You ready?" he asked this time. He looked at me with concern.

"Yeah," I said softly. He stooped by it and pulled the plastic away. Gray eyes stared at me. "Goddess!" I said. I gripped Bishop's shoulder.

"Ororo, are you okay?" Bishop asked. I didn't answer as I continued to stare into those eyes.

It was Christie.

I took a deep breath. "Y-yes," I managed to stammer. She had finally gotten what she deserved, but I was still surprised to see her laying there in blood. I blinked a couple of times before I looked away from her.

I always thought it would come down to her and me, but it looked like our murderer settled the score for me. I tried to feel bad for her. I really did, but the only thing I felt bad about was the fact that someone had beaten me to her. If the killer kept this up, there would be nothing left for me to do. I'm still debating on whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

After I left the scene, I went to the mansion and started suiting up. I was going to the Church of Eternal Life. Okay, maybe I actually wanted a little retribution for what happened the night before, but I was starting to suspect that the Church had something to do with this. They were just as zealous as HAV. They hated freak parties and were just as adamant about expressing that as HAV.

I strapped on my double holster equipped with two 9mm. I strapped another holster to the small of my back, slipping a Beretta Elite into it. I sat on my bed a moment, mentally preparing myself for this. The head of the church was a powerful vampire. I'm sure that wouldn't be able to see him without demanding an appointment, but I wanted to be ready for anything they might throw at me.

"You ready?" Logan asked from the doorway. I asked Logan to come with me as backup. Yeah, I know. Now is a fine time for me to finally decide to accept his help. I just hoped I hadn't made a bad decision by doing so. One friend was caught up in the crossfire. I hope that didn't turn into two.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I answered.

The Church didn't like to be associated with all the negativity and glamour that was usually associated with their kind. They frowned upon Vega's club, and freak parties were enough to make them want to stake themselves. They were supposed to be the "moral" vampires. Oh, the irony in that statement. This sort of matched their M.O., though.

The vampires that attended the Church despised vampires that made the vampire community look like a sordid affair. So, why not off a few master vampires to get their point across? Then again, if they were trying to get a point across, it was really vague. I guess they were trying to say that they were not going to take it anymore. I was going to talk to the head vampire in charge there.

I made a mental note to check on Jean-Paul since I was going to be out. I felt a little guilty about what happened at that party. Okay, I felt very bad about what happened. If I had never pressured him into going to that party, he wouldn't have felt obligated to help me and almost get his arm ripped off. Maybe I could take him flowers. Would that look suspect? A vampire hunter giving flowers to a vampire. That sounded like the punch line to a bad joke. It was the least I could do, though. He seemed like the type who might like flowers.

Logan and I walked up the stairs of the large church. It was a nice church, but there was something eerie about a church with no God. I didn't believe in God, but this seemed to infringe upon something sacred. Everyone had their gods, and this seemed to go against everything righteous.

"Is there anybody here?" Logan asked. I knew what he was thinking. The sun had started to set, but it was still a little earlier than vampires were used to rising.

"They have to have humans do their business during the daylight hours. I'm sure there's someone here." I said. I didn't mention that humans even did some of the recruiting for new vampires. The thought made me sick.

We walked into the temple. I couldn't believe people came here. There were even confessional booths. Confessing your sins to a vampire, someone who had enough sins on their soul to damn them for five lifetimes – that was frightening. We found a door marked office and walked in.

There was a man at the desk. He was young. I would say he in his early twenties. He was slight man with large brown eyes and short, light brown hair. I bet if I said "Boo!" he would have ran. Innocence just exuded from him. When he stood I saw a fresh bite mark on his neck, he hadn't been turned. They were making him a sort of slave to their will. He walked around the desk.

"Hello, I am Bradley," he said, extending a hand toward us. Logan just stared at it in disgust. I clasped hands with the young man.

After we shook hands, I put a hand on chin, pushing his head to the side, examining the bite mark. "You know holy water will fix that bite right up for you." I said, trying my hardest to sound sincere. Bradley pulled away. I could tell from his broken expression he was taken aback and maybe a little confused.

"Have a seat," he asked as he retreated behind his desk. He made a motion for us to take a seat. I sat in one of the chairs.

Logan crossed his arms. "I'll stand. Thanks." He leaned against the wall near the door. He had a look that said, 'bust a move'.

Bradley eyed Logan warily, then turned back to me. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to speak to the master." I answered.

"Well, Miss or is it Mrs.?" he asked, looking at Logan again.

"Miss Munroe." I told him.

"Miss Munroe, we have a dedicated group of experienced individuals that will help you decide if this is the life for you." He said. His words sounded robotic and emotionless. Logan snorted in the background.

"Bradley, I'm not interested in becoming a vampire. I need to talk to your master about the recent vampire slayings." I said. Bradley blanched. I guess I hit a nerve.

"Surely, you need to talk to the police about that type of thing, not us." His voice dropped about ten octaves.

I stood up and planted my hands firmly on Bradley's desk. I looked him directly in the eyes. He flinched. "Who am I supposed to talk to? You, Bradley? Are you trained to handle such affairs? Last night, I had a run in with some of your members, and I'm starting to get just a little suspicious. Now, either I talk to the master or I talk to the police. You know I can identify some of those members in a lineup if I had to. That wouldn't be too good for business, now, would it?"

"No," the man dropped his head. Ororo Munroe, weather witch and big bully. He started scribbling on his notepad, as I gave him my full name and repeated my business. "Come back later. Around 9. The master will see you then."

A little blackmail will get you a long way in this line of business. I backed away from the desk. "Thank you, Bradley." I said, nodding to Logan that we were leaving. Bradley just nodded after us.

"I think you scared him." Logan said once we were outside the office.

"Not as much as you did. He probably couldn't be paid enough to stay in a room with you." I chuckled. Logan had that effect on a lot of people.

"Smart kid."

We walked out the doors of the church. The sky had dimmed considerably since we stepped foot in the church. I barely had time to even enjoy the fresh air when Logan pulled me back into the church, pushing me to the floor. Bullets smashed into the church. Thank Goodness for Logan, huh? I would have never seen that one coming. We ran through the second set of doors leading from the lobby. Great, this was all I needed. I pulled my Beretta from my holster as we took refuge behind a pew.

The shooting had stopped, but I knew the shooter was still there. "He's sneakin' through the front door." Logan muttered. I'd be ready for him when he came through the door.

I heard heavy footsteps. Someone was running through the church. "What's going on?" I heard Bradley call through the quiet. I pulled Bradley to the floor as he tried to pass our pew. He let out a startled mew, as I put a finger to my lips, indicating for him to be quiet.

"Is there another way out?" I whispered. Bradley nodded. "Good. Logan, get him out of here. I'll handle the shooter."

"Are you sure?" Logan asked. I could almost see myself getting into an argument with him over this, but we didn't have time.

"Logan, I am quite capable. This you should know." I assured him.

He nodded grimly. I had taken care of myself long before he joined our team, and I would continue to do so. Logan and Bradley disappeared behind the maze of pews. Time slowed as I waited for the shooter to enter the temple. The doors opened slowly, and I could hear him walking slowly down the aisle. I pushed myself under one of the pews, watching his feet pass me. He was an amateur. He should have been sweeping under every pew. I slowly slid from beneath the pew. I stood and stepped behind him, putting my gun at the nape of his neck. He froze.

"You got me." He said, but then he elbowed me hard in the ribs. He turned, grabbing my gun arm, shaking my gun from my hand, putting his own gun to the base of my throat. "Or maybe, I got you."

I shouldn't have hesitated. That was the problem with being the good guy. I always hesitated. Still, he didn't know who he was messing with, and this was going to hurt him a lot more than it was going to hurt me. I grabbed his arm, unexpectedly, bending it back. The gun pointed to sky. I caught him off-guard. I had to act before he started trying to overpowering me.

He cried out as the first sting of lightning surged from me to him. The gun fell from his hands. I gripped my fingers tighter into his arm, sending yet another shock through him. He tried to pull away, but another surge weakened his resolved. He tried to bring his other fist up to catch me in the jaw, but I blocked with my free arm, kneeing him in the groin. He doubled over.

I let go of his arm momentarily, placing my hands on the back of his neck. I jerked his head down, bringing my knee up to kiss his face. His staggered back when I let go of him. I put a foot in the middle of his stomach and forced him to the ground. I pulled my 9mms jacket, pointing them in his face. "Who are you?"

He laughed.

"What do you want?"

He kept laughing. The man was a lunatic, but I guess you had to be crazy to come after someone like this. I wonder who put him up to it. "I want you to die, bitch!" He grabbed my leg, pushing me back. I lost my balance and fell on my back hard. Mistake number two. I couldn't make another one. He was already on me before I could regain my composure. His hands closed around my wrists, banging them hard against the floor. He took my guns and put one to my forehead. Anger warmed my blood, my body. I would not die like this.

The doors of the temple opened as a large gust of wind came at my command. The man stood and backed away from me. I used the winds to lift myself. His eyes widened as I waved an arm toward him. The winds attacked, throwing him against the altar. He held his midsection, struggling to get up. Shakily, he aimed the gun at me again. I raised my arms toward him again. Lightening flowed from my very core to the man. I lowered myself, walking toward his body.

He was definitely dead, and if he wasn't, he definitely wasn't happy. The temple doors opened again, and I turned, readying myself for another attack. Then I relaxed when I realized it was Logan. Logan stood beside me looking down at my would-have-been assassin. "I think you killed him." Logan said with a hint of amusement.

"We were just shot at and you still find the humor in all this?" I said. Logan nodded. Had to love his honesty.

Logan turned his head, as if listening. "We'd better get out of here, or we're going to have a lot of explainin' to do to the cops."

He didn't have to tell me twice.

A man named Archibald Corrigan, a master vampire, ran the church. The man was as slick as a politician and ten times deadlier. I went back to the church alone. I told Logan I think I would be okay. The church would packed, and if Archie was trying to uphold a reputation. I didn't plan on being there long, and I had my guns loaded with silver bullets.

The place was clean when I got there. You would never know that I fried someone there only hours before.. Those vampires sure cleaned up quick. Archie welcomed me into his office. I stood this time, just in case. We made the usual casual conversation. Hello. How are you? Fine and you? The whole time I held his gaze. He noticed this. "You've never looked me in the eye before, Ms. Munroe."

"There's no threat. I don't think you're trying to bespell me." I answered.

"As I've told you numerous times before, but you would never look me in before tonight." He moved toward me. He was a blur, but I saw him just the same. I pulled back and pulled my gun before he could catch my wrist. I continued to back away, but he made no effort to advance on me again. If he took just one more step, I'd fill his chest with lead. "You've been marked." He said calmly. He clearly wasn't effected by the sight of the gun.

"Yes." I admitted. There was no sense in trying to hide it. He wouldn't have believed me if I tried to hide it.

"Who did it?" he asked. There was that question again. Realization set in. That's what Sakura meant. She wanted to know who had given me the mark. She wouldn't be happy to know that Vega did it. I guess I'd better continue playing dumb where she was concerned. It had gotten me this far.

"That's a story I don't have the time to tell you. Maybe another time over tea." I said. Even if I wanted to tell him, I wasn't exactly sure about it myself. Vega had been so unclear about what was going on.

Archie chuckled and took his seat again. "Yes, another time. Now, what's this about murders?" He put on his best poker face.

"I believe your church is involved in the recent murders of vampires." I said. Okay, I was completely sure, but I believed that it was between the Church and HAV. After last night, the scales were tipping in favor of the church.

"Are you sure?" His voice tickled my skin like fingers. Don't they ever get any new tricks?

"No fair trying to get into my head, Archie." Thanks, but no thanks. One vampire at a time, please. I was still trying to battle one for control of my mind. "I'm quite sure that your church is involved."

"You speak what you believe to be true, but you are wrong, Ms. Munroe."

"Am I? Some of your congregation attacked a freak party I infiltrated last night. They would have killed me and others." Just thinking about the night before made my blood boil.

Archie frowned. "We are a non-violent sect. Those parties are a disgrace to the community, but I have always stressed that we should use legal means to stop them. However, I have no control over what some members of my church do."

Yeah, right, and I was Mary, queen of Scots. "Please, spare me. You're a master vampire. No one in this church could stand up to you." Did he really expect me to believe there was nothing he could do.

"You are correct, but I believe in freewill. The members of my church are adults. I am not a judge. Therefore, I don't issue out punishment."

"So, the guy who attacked me on your doorstep earlier is a free man in other words." I spat at him. My temper was beginning to get the best of me. I didn't even know if the guy was a member of the Church. I had to be stepping on some toes though for someone to send an assassin after me.

"You were attacked here? I didn't know. I assure you, Ms. Munroe, it was not a member of my church, and if it was, I will look into it."

How could he not know what took place at his own church? I didn't believe that for one second. I believe he did know, and he may know who attacked me. He might have hired them himself.

"I think you know about these murders, Archie. I think they were done with your approval if you aren't directly involved." I stared him dead in the eye, and for a moment, he seemed a little uneasy.

"Ms. Munroe, I think our meeting is over, now. I think you should leave." He said firmly. I wasn't going to argue with him. I just came here to talk, not get into an altercation with him.

"I'll leave, but you better believe that I'll be back." I said, clutching my gun tightly. He walked past me, opening the door for me. What a gentleman.

"Do you know what it means to be a human servant?" he asked me before I got through the entryway.

"No." I said, and that was the honest to goddess truth. There was no reason to lie about that either. But I knew I needed to get out of this somehow if I could. I didn't want to be anyone's "human servant" – least of all Vega's.

"You'll see…" He smiled coldly at me and laughed. He closed the door in my face. Bastard. I didn't like this.

I walked out the church door. I could hear echoes of the choir singing some hymn. Someone approached me from the shadows. It was Mortimer. The dim light from the streetlights illuminated his face. I could see the distress painted on his face.

"She's got 'im." He said frantically.

"Who's got who?"

"Sakura. She got Jean-Paul, and she's hurtin' 'im. You have to help him, or she'll kill 'im."

Damn, I guess this is what I get for forgetting to stop by and give Jean-Paul flowers.

A/N: Told you I would have an update up sooner rather than later. Only a few more chapters left. Look for the next chapter in a few days. -Tempest


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**15.**

I disobeyed nearly every traffic law as I sped toward Sakura's hideout. I dared a police officer to even attempt to stop me. I was angry, very angry, and I didn't know what I was capable of. I was scared, too. However, anger and a burning hatred for Sakura was my main motivation. The muscles in my stomach clenched and unclenched matching the throb that had started in my temple.

Mortimer gasped and gripped the door handle when I cut a corner too sharply. Mortimer was risking a lot coming to me. I think he could officially prepare for some downtime in his coffin, unless she was the one who sent him to me. She could be using him to bait me into her lair. "Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly." I breathed under my breath.

"What was that?" Mortimer asked at my side.

"Nothing." I said gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Mortimer seemed genuinely concerned for Jean-Paul's welfare, but he could have mastered the fine art of bluffing since our last meeting. It didn't matter whether Mortimer came on his own or if Sakura sent him. I would still be making this trip regardless. I wouldn't just let Jean-Paul be punished because of me. Because of me, he had gone to somewhere he didn't really want to be, and he defied Sakura. I'd say I owed him a lot.

I didn't know how I was going to help Jean-Paul or myself, but I was going to do whatever it takes. _Let's hope it doesn't take your life_, I said silently to myself. It seems like everyone who even associated with me was being caught in the crossfire. If by some small miracle I didn't die, I was just going to hand the case over to the police. I couldn't take anymore, and Sakura be damned if she didn't like it. I couldn't risk any more lives.

I parked near the Circus of the Damned. I tried to calm myself before I got out the car, but I couldn't. Every fiber of my being clung to this anger—this hate—with an unyielding urgency. Perhaps, this was best. I would rather be angry when I faced Sakura. Fear would only be a harbinger of death. She would use my own fear to kill me. But when I thought about it, anger just seemed like an evolved form of fear.

The Circus of the Damned was a real freak show housed in a large warehouse. Humans thought mutants were freaks. Not compared to this we weren't. This place was a sadistic version of a circus. It was garish and sickening. You think clowns are scary? Wait until you see a clown with fangs. That's not even the best part. Despite this place being overrun with vampires, weres, and every other supernatural lowlife, parents who were loyal to the vampires thought this was a fun place to bring their kids. Who were the freaks again?

Music hit me full blast when I entered the grounds. "_We've come to scream in the happy house. We're in a dream in the happy house. We're all quite sane. This is the happy house. We're happy here_." Siouxsie and the Banshees' _Happy House_, how appropriate for this place. I had never been here before on my own. I have come here on official business. That meant I was with the law, but tonight, I was on my own. Well… if you didn't count Mortimer. I don't think Mortimer could hurt a fly, though.

He led me through this gothic nightmare. I tried to keep my eyes centered on him. I really didn't need to see the Magnificent Snake Woman or the Death Defying Vampire Alejandro. Thanks, but no thanks. Mortimer led me through a door. "He's here." He said, grimly. I followed him down a set of stairs, through another door, and finally to some sort of altar room.

My stomach dropped to my knees when I saw Jean-Paul. There were silver shackles extending from the wall around his wrist and ankles. There was a little space between his skin and the shackles, but the silver held him at bay. He pressed his body tightly against the wall to avoid the silver. His eyes were closed, and he was naked from the waist up. I could actually see various cross patterns burned into his skin. I wonder who she got to do that. I hope it wasn't Ryu.

I walked toward him slowly. My anger was starting to dissipate into sorrow and raw fear. I tried to hang on to it, telling myself I was going to need it. The closer I got to Jean-Paul, the more his wounds started to show. There was a raw cross burn over his heart. Welts lined his body. I didn't want to think about what she used to get those kinds of results.

"Jean-Paul?"

He opened his eyes, and I saw anguish in them. His torture extended more than just the physical. I could tell from the glassy stare he gave. She had tortured him mentally as well. That was enough to make my anger plummet, as I tried to pull the cuffs frantically from his wrists. I knew it wouldn't work, but desperation's a bitch. I could pick the locks on them if I could find something. I don't know when I became so refined that I stopped carrying lock picks. That was my tool of trade after all.

I backed away from Jean-Paul, bumping into something solid. Not something, _someone_. Jean-Paul lifted his eyes, looking at whoever it was standing behind. His nostrils flared and he tried to speak. His words wouldn't come to him. I knew it wasn't Sakura, too big a bulk, but Goddess, I didn't want to turn around. A hand touched my shoulder, followed by a deep laugh. Oh Goddess. I turned around slowly. Valiant.

Where was all that anger from a minute ago? I needed it right now because as Cee so aptly put it: Valiant was a mean motherfucker. He was just as sadistic as Sakura, just not as old. Give him a few more centuries, and we may all be living under the Valiant rule. I shuddered even thinking about that. He's something of a convict because he's supposed to be dead.

He once attacked a family, and I was called to the scene along with some other people. Let's just say vampires and fire don't mix. He opened his shirt to reveal cracked skin across his chest, part of his right arm, and his neck. Old burns. Let's just say I was really trying to kill him, but he managed to get away. He was strong enough to withstand it, but he would never get rid of those scars. Did I mention that he didn't like me?

"Hello, mortal." He said. Blood was in his auburn hair, spattered on his clothes, everywhere. Dark eyes gleamed impishly at me. Could this night get worse? I was jinxing myself, wasn't I?

"Valiant." I said, trying to sound brave. Long time no see, old buddy. How are the scars? Do you still have nightmares about me at night? I know sometimes I dream about you.

"Don't hurt her." Jean-Paul said. Valiant brushed past me, stopping in front of Jean-Paul. He stroked his cheek. I would say tenderly, but there isn't a tender thing left in Valiant.

"You beg for the life of a human?" Valiant asked, obviously amused.

Jean-Paul nodded. "Yes, take me, instead. _Take me_." I don't think I ever heard such resolve in his voice. He was willing to sacrifice his life for me, the woman who executes his kind. He didn't know a thing about me. I was touched, truly and deeply. I wouldn't let him die for me. I wouldn't. I couldn't. I don't know how I would forgive myself if I did.

"But I've already had you, lover. I need fresh blood." Valiant said, smirking.

I wanted to say wasn't I just a little bit out of his usual age bracket? He hadn't known me as a child, but I'm sure he stalked Jean-Paul as child, as he's done with all his prey. Children! Taken against their will. Some killed. Some spared like Jean-Paul, whose devotion led to him being turned once he grew up. It frightened me to think that he might one day claim a child from the mansion. I couldn't let that happen.

"Please, don't hurt her." Jean-Paul pleaded again. His voice wavered. I knew standing up to your master wasn't exactly the ideal thing to do, especially for a human.

"_He_ isn't going to hurt her," said the sickly sweet voice behind. Valiant moved to the side, and there was the vampire princess herself. She walked toward me, slowly. I backed away from her, bumping into Jean-Paul. I felt like hiding my face in his chest, but I had to be strong for him, as he was trying to be for me. "We prettied up your lover for you. You like?"

"He's not my lover." I said, raising my chin.

"Lies."

"He's not my lover." I said again. I turned slightly to look at Jean-Paul. I cupped his jaw in my hand, looking in the eye. "He's my friend, and I don't wish to see him harmed."

I heard Mortimer protesting in the background. When I peeked around, Triage held Mortimer by the neck. Three on one. She laughed that little tinkering laugh. The vampire princess. Bitch. She walked toward me, again. I backed away from her, bumping into Jean-Paul's chest. He seemed to pushing himself harder into the wall. He was trying to get away, too. There was nowhere left to go. I wish we could melt through the wall.

"Now, now, Ororo. You wouldn't be lying to me, would you? I can pick your mind." Anything, but that. I'd rather Jean read every secret in my head than to let Sakura pick it.

She waved her hand toward me, and Valiant snatched me from Jean-Paul before I could catch my breath. I tried to scream. I tried to fight, but there were three—four, if you counted the now detained Mort—and one of me. What could I do? Sakura ran a cool hand over my jawline, down my neck, then back to my lips. I flinched away from her touch. "Touch my face," she demanded.

"No!" I said before I could bite it back.

"Vega has given you too much courage. You don't have the power to defy me." She skipped away from me. The bitch skipped! What kind of perversion was this? Skipping baby vampires, that was absolutely wrong.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Vega had given me too much courage? He hadn't given me anything except heartache and despair. He had Carmen to lure us to that club. I know he did it only because Sakura wanted it, but she never would have wanted me if he hadn't mentioned that he thought I would be the best candidate for the job.

"Cut the act." She said. Her voice was suddenly hard and centuries old.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I should have asked Ryu about this human servant thing when we met up. Maybe he could have shed a little light on what was going on because I honestly had no idea what she was talking about.

"You want to continue these games." In the blink of an eye, she was beside Jean-Paul. "You see, Ororo. I am still the strongest vampire in this city. I still possess powers neither you nor your master can ever hope to understand or gain."

I didn't have a damn master. I was a human being with freewill over myself. No one controlled me. _No one_. She gripped Jean-Paul's arm, forcing him to touch the metal. His flesh sizzled. He jerked against her. "Stop!" I cried out, struggling with Valiant. It wasn't really much of a match. He could easily subdue me, but I think he liked me to squirm.

"Did you know that I wanted Jean-Paul to seduce you? Instead, you're the one who tempted him." She said, running her fingers across the wounds on his upper body. She sank her nails deeper and deeper in his flesh until blood began to form at the wound.

"Please, stop! I'll do anything!" The words uttered in a moment of distress. I couldn't take it back now. Why was I trying to strike a bargain with the devil? She would do what she wanted to do regardless of what I offered her.

"Anything?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

I swallowed hard. "Anything, just let him go."

She motioned for Valiant to let me go, and he did. "Then, come. Let us discuss your future and your lover's future." She walked toward the base of the stairs.

I didn't move. I had a request. "First, though, I would like to speak with Jean-Paul privately." I implored. Yeah, I was really in the position to make these kinds of demands.

Instead of snapping my neck, she only laughed. "You're a brave one. I see why Vega chose you. We will leave, but I will send Ryu to stand at the top of the stairs. He still has human hearing." I nodded. Still has human hearing? What did she mean? Why wouldn't he still have human hearing? He was a human after all.

However, I could live with that. I actually didn't mind Ryu being there; he didn't pose a real threat to me. I know he only acted on her orders. She left with a swish of her skirts, followed by Valiant, a shaken Mortimer, and Triage. Triage turned back toward me before disappearing behind the door to throw me a wink and a kiss. "I can't wait to see your friend Jean again." Triage said. Then, he was gone. I couldn't wait to load him full of silver. I would never let him get his hands on Jean.

Ryu appeared at the top of the stairs. He only looked down at my briefly. His face was expressionless. I guess it was better for him to just appear emotionless. Then, he turned his eyes to the wall, looking at nothing. I walked toward Jean-Paul. I touched the new wound tenderly. He wasn't healing properly. I could see bite marks in his neck. They were draining him, and he didn't have enough blood to heal.

He was probably at one of his weakest moments at this moment. Vampires needed blood to sustain their power. Right now, Jean-Paul was almost human. Let me explain. His strength is diminished to dangerously low levels. He was still immortal, and he may still possess just a little power over me. But it would be more like fighting a human than a vampire. His movements would be slowed to human speed. The blood was their everything.

"How did they get you?" I asked him.

"They came to the club and took me." He answered.

"No one tried to help you? Not even Omar?" Omar was the head of things when Vega wasn't around, such as now. I guess you could say that Omar was Vega's right hand man.

"He wasn't strong enough to oppose them. You know this." Jean-Paul said in Omar's defense.

Yeah, I knew, but where I'm from loyalty meant something. Vega was Jean-Paul's protector, even if Valiant was his master. Valiant was no match for Vega. Jean-Paul worked for Vega, and in return, Vega took care of him. Vampires did have some sense of duty. Now that Vega is out of commission for a while, Omar is supposed to carry on as his master would, protecting Vega's things as if they were his own.

"Ororo, we must go." Ryu called out calmly.

I looked up the stairs at him. I turned back to Jean-Paul, throwing my arms around him, being as careful as possible. I didn't care about the blood. Blood could be washed away. "I am going to get us out of here, and when I do, I will kill them. Every last one of them. This is my word, and my word is my bond." I swept his hair out of his face and placed a small kiss on the side of his cheek. A tear slid down my cheek.

"Ororo, don't…" He started. "Just let me die." I didn't say anything as I walked up the steps, never glancing back. Ryu held the door open for me. I didn't want to leave him there, but did I really have any other choice? The first flicker of anger started again in my chest.

Ryu lead me to the room where I first met her. She was sitting in an office chair, spinning, laughing, having fun. This was all a joke, fun and games. She stopped spinning. Ryu took his place beside her, and Valiant stood by me. I would much rather have Ryu as my warden. "No jokes, animator?" She said, referring to the last time I was here. There were none. I was all joked out, and this close to being pushed over the edge. I shook my head, and she laughed again.

"Have you broken her so easily, master?" Triage said from behind her. I shot daggers through his head. I wanted to hurt him so bad it was making my heart ache.

"I have no time for your games, vampire. Tell me what it is you want." I demanded.

"Much better." Sakura said, a giggle chasing her words. If I didn't work with children every day, I swear I would be scarred from this experience. I would think every child in the world was a demon.

"Let's have a little girl talk. Let's talk about men. One in particular. Vega." She said, her eyes narrowing. My heart beat against my chest. "Now, Vega is locked away in his coffin, correct? He should be starving, on the edge of lunacy. But he's as fat as Christmas turkey and as strong as ever. Why is this?"

Was this a trick question? I didn't know why he wasn't starving. It wasn't exactly as if I saw him a lot these days, if you didn't count my dreams. So, I did what I thought was best. I kept my mouth shut. Apparently, that isn't what she wanted.

"Come on now, Ororo. Don't be shy. Speak up! What's said here stays here." She said.

"I don't know." I said slowly. For all I knew, someone could be opening up his coffin, giving him a little snack, and closing the coffin again before Sakura knew what was going on. Although, I don't think there was much going on that she didn't know about. So, I ruled that out.

"More lies? Will you ever tire of them? Maybe if I torture Jean-Paul a little more, you'll get on job." She threatened.

"I honestly don't know, Sakura. If I knew I would tell you." I was sniveling, but I was only doing until I could somehow get the upper hand over them. I had to play her game until I could think of something.

"Master, perhaps she really doesn't know." Ryu spoke up. His face was still expressionless, but I knew he did it to help. I thanked him with my eyes. He spared me at least a few more seconds.

Sakura looked at him amused. "You think? Nah, Vega wouldn't do something like that. Then again, it's Vega. So, he would. Wouldn't he? Giving the second mark to Ororo without even telling her."

What? What second mark? I thought back. Those green flames I saw in my dreams, the same green flames that I tried to fend myself from in my dream when I fell asleep in the bathtub. No, please no.

"She doesn't know, master. Look at the confusion in her eyes." Ryu said. His eyes penetrated mine. Thank you, someone knew that I wasn't just pretending not to understand.

"Then, enlighten her, Ryu. We want her to know what she has to look forward to." Sakura said nastily. He looked at Sakura and she nodded at him. Hell, I wanted to know what I had to look forward to, as well.

"Ororo, how old do you think I am?" He asked quietly.

I studied him for a moment. I wasn't as accurate with human ages as I was with vampire ages, so I usually kept the age range general. "Mid-twenties?" I said, after studying his face for a moment.

"I am 600-years-old." He said with a shake of his head.

"Impossible! You're human. I can tell." Dread rooted in my stomach. Something told me I was going to be cursing Vega's name in just a few more minutes. I was just waiting for the punch.

"Yes. I have been given all four marks by my master. I will live nearly as long as she will." He said.

"No…" I started shaking my head. "He didn't. He wouldn't." Was that what he was trying to do to me? I didn't want that. I didn't want to be by Vega's side for the rest of his life. I heard his voice echoing in my head. _I had no choice. I am sorry_. There are always choices. What about what I wanted?

"With the next mark, there will be easier mind contact. He won't just have to come to you in your dreams." Sakura said. She was gloating at me. She knew I hated what I was hearing, and she fed off it.

"No. No. No." I kept repeating.

"No, you don't want the next mark, or no, you don't believe us?" She teased. She thought all this was entertaining.

"I don't want to be anyone's servant. I don't want a master. I don't want…"

"Have you been eating a lot lately, mortal? Have you had cravings, eaten things you wouldn't normally touch?" She asked.

"Yes." I said. That much I could answer. It was a wonder that I hadn't gained about fifty pounds by now. Right now, even, my stomach was flipping from hunger.

She frowned. "He is taking energy from you, using your body to nourish him. He will stay strong, as long as he has you. That is why your appetite has increased."

"I didn't know. I wouldn't have." I said. Son-of-a-bitch. He was the reason why I was going on an eating rampage.

"I believe you, but last night, when I realized what had been done. I was so angry that I took your lover." She said. Her voice was almost apologetic. I knew she regretted nothing.

"We're not sleeping together."

"Why else would he try to save you? Surely not because he's moral? Why would you risk your life for him?" She asked.

Apparently, she hadn't learned camaraderie, especially comradeship against a common evil, before she was turned, or maybe she didn't give a damn about it. Whatever, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. "What can I do to please you?" I almost choked on my words.

"There will be time for that, but first, I would like you to see the fourth mark for yourself." Sakura said. Why was she going on continuously about this? I got the picture. I was screwed if I didn't find some way to get out of this. Did she have to keep rubbing it in?

Ryu kneeled beside her, somewhat reluctantly. She touched him and he tensed. She unbuttoned her shirt, baring small breasts. I wanted to turn my head, but I had to know. She looked me in the eye as she ran a sharp fingernail deep into her skin over her breast. A line of blood appeared and began to flow from it like a river. I watched appalled as Ryu's lips latched to the cut, suckling from her like a child from a mother.

"This," she said, gesturing at Ryu, "is the fourth mark."

There was no way Vega would ever make me do that. I'll kill him first. I swear it. I turned my face, looking at Valiant instead, trying to focus on how well-behaved he was being for the master, but all I could hear was the sucking noises and Sakura's light moans. I wanted to cover my ears, run from the room, but I kept my eyes on Valiant. And he sure as hell kept his eyes on me. Finally, the noises stopped and I looked back toward them.

His chest heaved heavily, and her head lolled back. Was this some kind of weird vampire sex or what? "Mortimer is being punished for pitying Jean-Paul. Did Mortimer really think he could secretly bring you in here?"

I didn't know, but I was relieved that he had been concerned about Jean-Paul.

"Can you see my scar today?" she asked. I shook my head no. "I am having to use more energy to hide it from you. Vega has devotees. If I kill him, they will put him on a pedestal and call him a hero, a martyr. If I make him look weak instead, they will follow no one or me. So, I will destroy something that he has pledged to protect."

"Jean-Paul," I muttered. Jean-Paul was Vega's to protect. Oh Goddess, they were going to kill him. "No!"

"But yes." She grinned at me. Before I could blink my eyes, Valiant and Triage were gone. I stared at her. I reached for my gun, but she held it in her hand.

"Looking for this? I clouded your mind and took it, just like I clouded your mind so Valiant and Triage could go to your lover. Vega has done a very bad thing. Now, Jean-Paul will suffer."

"Bitch!" I spat at her, running toward the door, using the wind to propel me faster. I could her anger hot on my back, but I didn't turn around. They already had Jean-Paul out of his chain when I reached them. He was sprawled on the floor. Blood was everywhere, his blood. He wasn't dead, but he was dying. They moved in on him again like wolves.

I put myself between them and him, throwing a current of air at Valiant, sending him sprawling back. Triage made a move to grab me. "Touch me if you dare." I threatened. He paused. Fear was almost a fleeting thought, as I hovered protectively over Jean-Paul. Lightning flickered from my skin. I summoned a wind to bring him to me. He began yelling for Valiant, as I took him higher and higher. Lucky for me Valiant couldn't fly, or maybe lucky for him.

"Valiant can't save you now." I said. Anger boiled in me. He taunted me by using my best friend. I would make him regret the day he laid eyes on me.

"Your eyes! What are you doing?" I heard Triage yell over the howls of my winds. He didn't get a chance to say anything else, as I hit with a bolt of lightning, releasing him from the winds. He fell to the ground, not moving.

"What have you done to him?" Valiant screamed.

The same thing I was about to do to him until the door from Sakura's chamber exploded open. I had to dodge the debris. Valiant covered his head and dropped to his knee. Her winds overpowered my own, ripping at my hair, clawing at my face. No! I was the mistress of the elements. Before I could retaliate, she was floating before me.

She was using so much power that I could her veins, her bones. She was almost painful to look at, and she was furious with me. She whipped me against the wall. I screamed. How could I have let her take control from me so easily? She was on me within a second, pinning me to the wall. "You will learn to obey me."

"No!" I screamed. I would never obey her. She snapped my face forward to look at her. Chills ran through my brain. She was cutting me up psychologically., making me relive every fear, every painful moment. I could feel myself trembling, tears flowed down my face. I couldn't make it. I was going to die here. _You will not die here_, a voice said in my head. She pulled me close; her teeth sank into my flesh. All the fight was gone. Then, she cast me from her. I was falling, but everything went black before I landed.

- - -

I opened my eyes to see a man the color of café au lait standing over me. His gray eyes looked down at me with worry and fear. Omar. Vega's right hand man. I shifted around. I was on a couch in some office. How had I gotten here? Where was Jean-Paul? Tears burned my eyes. He was dead. I had failed him. I should have never trusted Sakura. She was a snake, more vile than any villain I have ever encountered.

"Where am I?" I asked, forcing my tears back. I had to fight now. There would be time for tears later.

"Vega's office." Omar answered.

"How did I get here?" I asked.

"Sakura dropped you off. 'Here's your boss' whore,' she said." He said the words hesitantly, looking away from me. He obviously hated her just as much as I did. She had disrespected his master, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Do you know what he did?" It was an accusation. He knew what I was talking about – the marks. I wanted to know if I was the only person who didn't know about these damn marks.

"Yes, he marked you twice. When I talk to you, it's as if I'm talking to him." He said. Haha, Munroe, the joke is on you. Everyone knew what was going on except you. I bet it was the talk of the vampire community. Vega has marked a hunter. Was he serious about the talking to Vega bit? Wait, did he mean that literally? I didn't know, and I didn't care.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I didn't answer his question. Instead, I said, "I need a bathroom."

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a mess, but I was lucky I wasn't serious injured or hurt. I touched my fingers to the bite marks. Bright Lady, she had bitten me. I touched the wound again tenderly. This was the first time I had been bitten by a vampire, so I did what many people would do. I freaked out. I cried. I screamed. I cursed. I trashed the bathroom, throwing the trashcan into the class of the mirror.

Then, I was deadly calm. My logical mind took over. I had to get this wound cleaned.

"Ororo? Are you all right in there?" Omar asked outside the door.

"Leave me alone, Omar." I yelled.

"Yes." He answered.

I looked into the mirror at my shattered reflection. Forget turning this case over to the police. It was blood for blood, now. They were going to pay. I was going to make them all pay. By everything I hold sacred and true, I will be avenged.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**16.**

Before I left the club, the human claims girl from before handed me a black bag. I looked inside. There were bottles. Holy water. My car was outside waiting for me. Had that little hellion drove it? I didn't drive off immediately. I hit my fist repeatedly on the steering wheel while I cried. Yeah, I was freaking out again. The bitch bit me! I wasn't sure how to handle that. I took a couple of deep breaths.

Okay, I needed to find someone who believed in the faith. That was my best bet, my only bet really. I searched my brain for people I knew. I had to think of someone fast before Sakura compelled me to run my car off a bridge or bite my fingers off. I didn't want to involve any more people at the mansion. I could go to a church, but they would probably think I was a mad woman and turn me away.

Only two people came to mind – a non-mutant acquaintance and Forge. My acquaintance was out of town, so that left Forge. Oh Goddess. I knew he believed, but did I want to face him? Did I have any other choice? Besides, even if I could apply this myself, I would still need someone. I heard getting a vampire's bite cleaned was not a pleasant experience.

I drove to my former lover's apartment, hoping that Mindy—Mandy, whatever her name was—wasn't there. He couldn't be serious about a woman like her. Ugh, what was I thinking? Forge and I weren't together anymore. He could date whomever he wanted, even bimbos with the name Mindy. It took another three breaths of courage for me to walk up the stairs to Forge's apartment.

Another two to knock on his door, and once I did that, I knew there was no turning back. I couldn't have run if I wanted to. I heard the locks turn and Forge peeked out the door. "Hello!" I said a little too loudly.

"Ororo?" he said, looking at me horrified.

"Yeah, I know. I look like the walking dead. Can I come in?" He opened the door wider and allowed me to enter. I stood in the middle of the living room, clutching my little black bag. "I need your help." I gave him the concise version of what happened. I left out all the usual goodies – Vega, the marks, Triage trying to get to Jean.

"You know this isn't supposed to be done at one time. It should be done over a period of a few days." He said taking the bag I offered to him. Forge knew a lot about what I did. He expressed an interest in it. When we were together, he devoured anything I had that he could get his hands on. He may even know more about it than me.

"I don't have a few days, Forge. I need this wound cleaned now before that… that… before Sakura gets any bright ideas." I said, choking on her name. It made me sick to even think about her. I was going to kill her.

"Ororo, if she's as powerful as you say she is, she may still be able to get to you, even if we clean the wound," he said. Told you he knew as much as I did.

"I know. I've never dealt with any vampire that strong, but I don't want to take any chances. I want it all done now." I said, walking toward his bathroom. Funny how familiar this all was.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub. I wasn't expecting a whole lot because I knew the rules of religion. I moved the collar of my shirt to reveal the bite. I heard Forge praying slightly. _Please, let this work. This is my only chance._ Forge opened the first bottle and poured a generous amount, and I cried out in agony. I fell backwards into the tub, bumping my head on the side. Goddess, my insides were burning away. I could feel my bones melting, my skin sizzling. It was consuming me inside out.

"I'm sorry." Forge said.

Tears streamed down my face as I waited for the pain to subside. I gritted my teeth, sitting up in the bathtub. It burned. So that meant it was working, right? "It's not your fault. Do it again." I told him.

"Ororo, I don't–"

"Do it again, Forge. I don't care how much I cry or fight. You have to keep doing it until it's clean." I said darkly.

Forge let out a resigned sigh, took off his belt, and handed it to me. "I don't want them to think I'm killing you in here." He said softly. I bit down on the tough leather and closed my eyes. He poured more onto the wound, and I felt my head spin from the pain. I tried to brace myself, but I lurched forward, spewing the contents of my stomach into the tub.

Another dash made me try to slap Forge. I didn't mean to try to hit him. My body just reacted. He dodged in the nick of time. After that, my body just went lethargic from the pain. I was soaked to the bone in water – water that burned nonetheless. I was shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth would have been chattering against one another if it hadn't been for the belt. I could see that Forge was reluctant to do anything more.

I tried to slow my breathing, but I couldn't. "Again." I said, placing the belt back in my mouth. Tears were running down my face in torrents, and a clap of thunder sounded outside. I had to finish this. I had to. When he did it again, I passed out. I couldn't take it anymore. In the darkness, all I felt was the burning. Bright Lady, it burned like fire.

When I opened my eyes again, I was on Forge's bed. He was sitting beside the bed putting a cool towel to my head. "Forge, I need you to put a cross to the wound." If it was clean, nothing would happen. If I was still tainted, I was going to have one nasty scar. Forge walked to his dresser, opening the top of it. In his hand, he held a small, silver chain with a crucifix on it. I remembered it. He used to wear it to church.

"Be quick." I said. I closed my eyes bracing myself. This would hurt far worse than the holy water. Far, far worse. I felt the cool metal touch my skin. No burning. No melting flesh. Nothing. I started crying again. I was clean. I wrapped my arms around Forge, planting kisses on his cheek. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Then, I pulled back quickly. Goddess, what was I doing? Forge's face turned eight different shades of red. It's sad that we were such strangers to each other now. "You're welcome," he said sheepishly.

"I don't know why I don't just become a Christian or something. The stuff works. There has to be a reason for that, right?" I asked Forge. I was trying to cool the embarrassment, but I had a good point.

"I believe, Ororo, but what I'm about to tell you will probably make me sound like an unbeliever." Forge started. He took a deep breath. "I don't believe that Christian items work because they're God-powered. You wanted this to work. I wanted this to work. I believe they work because we believe so strongly in them."

"So, you think it's our own power that makes them work?"

"Yes, I do. To me, it's sort of like we're channeling our own inner strength into these. You know when I was growing up I was taught that everyone had a bit of old world magic left in them, but since the age of technology, we've lost touch with that power. I honestly believe that's all that's happening here. That power is transferred into faith."

He held the crucifix out to me. "Here, take it," he said. I took it from him, our fingers lingered together a moment too long. "Ororo, what happened? With us, I mean. What really happened with us?"

"You said I was too busy for you, that there were too many other priorities in my life." I said without batting an eyelash. He looked sad, and my heart reached out to him.

"I think there was more to it than that. Was it me? Was there something more I could have done to make it work?"

"No. It wasn't you. Don't ever think it was you. Some things just aren't meant to be, and maybe, we were one of those things. You treated me well. I wish it had worked, too, but we just have different goals in life. I will always cherish what we shared." And that was the honest to Goddess truth.

"I'm glad you came to me for help. It means a lot to me."

"I'm glad, too."

"Rest now. We can talk later." He turned off the lights in the room and started to exit the room.

"Will you call the mansion and let them know I'm okay?" I asked him before he closed the door.

"Yeah," he said and softly closed the door. I turned on my side, looking out the window of the bedroom to the night sky until I fell asleep.

I was dressed in a flowing, white dress. I knew this room. It was the one from the dream before, but the table was gone. "Come," I heard Vega's voice say, and I looked up to see him sitting on a throne. I swallowed hard and began shaking my head.

"You can't make me. This is my dream." I said.

He stood and held his arms out to me. "Come," he said. And I'll be damned if my body didn't betray me and start walking toward him. So much for this being my dream. The dress whispered around my feet and I held my hands out to him. I couldn't stop myself. Trust me, I was trying.

He made me hold the neckline of his shirt, cupping my hands with his own. He forced me to grip the soft material and used my hands to rip open his shirt. I nearly choked on my tongue. There was a tattoo, a snake, coiled around his torso, extending to his arm. Just as Sakura had showed me, he used a fingernail to draw blood.

He gripped my chin, bringing my face closer. I knew what was supposed to happen now. Oh hell no. I started flailing against him like a drowning woman. He gripped my chin tighter, and I tried to hit him with a fist. Didn't work. He caught my hand. I wanted to scream, but I was afraid I opened my mouth I would get a mouthful.

I brought a knee up, and he hissed. Vampires can feel pain, even though they can recover fast. He dropped me to the floor. Sakura's laugh filled the room, and I saw her standing in the background with a smug smile. She had that I-told-you-so look that children favored. I quickly turned my eyes back to Vega, and he looked at me.

"Vega. Please don't. Don't do this." I crab-crawled away from. He was stalking toward me. I couldn't find my footing fast enough. I kept tripping over the stupid dress. By the time I was standing, he was already on me, wrenching my wrists between his hands. He pulled me close, too close to kick him again. I couldn't move. I was suffocating.

His voice rolled over me, penetrating me fully. It made me weak. "Blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh. Two hearts beat as one. Two minds think as one. Two souls united as one. So it is, so it shall always be." He said. Then, I felt it. I felt forever. It was as tangible as Vega's skin, and it scared the hell out of me.

"Vega! Stop! Stop! Vega! Goddess, protect me!" I howled in my dream. He was burying my face in his chest.

"Ororo! Ororo, wake up!" Forge was shaking my shoulders. I woke up swinging for my life. I don't know what I was expecting to hit. I opened my eyes to see Forge and Logan standing over me. Logan did not look happy at all. I guess Forge told him what happened.

"I had a nightmare." I said. I was just about sick of these dreams. Vega better pray to all that was sacred I didn't try to kill him. What if he hadn't been the one who sent the dream? It could be Sakura messing with my mind.

"We could tell." Forge said. "Who's Vega? You were calling out that name."

Logan and I exchanged a glance. "It's a long story, and unfortunately, I don't have time to tell you about it right now. I have to get back out there." I sat up quickly in the bed and my head started spinning.

"Ororo, you're going to kill yourself at this rate. You need to go back to the mansion." Forge said.

"'Ro, you need to rest." Logan said.

"Right." I said standing carefully. They shared a look that said, 'she's being stubborn'. I walked into the living room. Time to start putting things in forward motion. I dialed the number of a newspaper reporter I knew. I know reporters equal bad, but while this one was probably equally as bad, I needed his help.

I knew he would be at work this late because he worked hard. They say I'm dedicated to what I do, not nearly as much as he is. "Robert Garcia," a voice said after the second ring.

"Robert, it's Ororo." I said.

"What do you want?" he asked bluntly. His smooth voice was edged with suspicion.

"You act like I never call unless I want something." I said, shifting from my weight from foot to foot.

"You don't!" He said. Good old Robert. There wasn't a tactful bone in his body.

"Well, I guess this is no exception, then. I need you to set up a meeting between me and the rat king." I said. That's right. Robert was a were. Not a wererat, but he could get in touch with them.

Robert didn't say anything on the other end. After a few minutes, I thought he had hung up on me. "Why?" He finally asked, lowering his voice.

"I can't tell you."

"You want my help, but you don't want to give me the scoop." Despite being a were, he was still a nosy reporter who'd do anything he could to get the story. This was one story that he wasn't going to get, though.

"You're getting the gist of it now." I replied.

"Why should I help you?" he asked. I could hear smugness creeping into his voice. He thought he was going to be able to bribe me to give him the story. Well, he had another think coming.

"Robert, don't start that tonight. I'm the one who helped you land your first front page story. You're either going to help me or you're not. And if you're not, you need to let me know so I can quit wasting my time."

"Touchy."

"Can you set up a meeting with the wererats or not?" I demanded.

"Maybe. It depends on what you want." He said slowly. Still trying, I almost had to admire Robert's tenacity.

"Well, look, I'm going to give you a message. The king will understand it. Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Tell him that I resisted the vampires, and I'm still breathing." I said.

"Sounds like front page material to me. Are you sure–"

"Robert, this could be bad for everyone." I said before he could get the question out of his mouth. He really didn't want to piss off Sakura, right now. As conniving as Robert could be, I didn't want to read about his death in the newspaper.

He was silent again. I guess he was mulling over that. "Do you have your pager on you?"

"Always."

"Good, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Robert."

"Just take care. Without you, how am I supposed to get front page news?"

"Goodbye, Robert."

Logan and Forge were floating over me again after I got off the phone. They hummed and hawed over me like a couple of mother hens until I finally said I would go straight to the mansion. I never said anything about staying there all night, though. Too bad things never go as planned anyway. Before we left Forge's apartment, my pager went off. I thought it was Robert, and I was almost surprised that he got me a meeting that quick, but when I looked at the number, it was Edmond.

I called him back and he answered the phone calling my name. "Ororo, is this you?" He asked when he picked up the phone. What a way to answer the phone.

"Yeah, it's me." I said.

"We need you. Benedict is going to do it. He wants us to do it." He said excitedly.

"What?" That was disbelief.

John Benedict had his daughter animated some ten years ago. At first, no one was sure why. It was later revealed that he abused the girl horribly and wanted her forgiveness. Of course, she died with this fear of him, and that fear would always stay with her. She wouldn't forgive him. As punishment, he would let anyone lay the girl back to rest.

"He wants you to do it."

"You know I don't–"

"He won't let anyone else do it. It has to be you, and it has to be tonight. He's afraid he'll change his mind otherwise." Edmond said.

"But I–"

"Are you going to do it, Ororo? You'll be a hero." I could hear the urgency in his voice, and I couldn't refuse. Who knows what kind of horror this girl has been going through?

"Tell me where to go."

"You're a bleeding heart, Ororo. I knew you wouldn't say no." He said, giving me the address. He said everything I needed would already be waiting for me at the site.

"How much is he paying you?" You know with Edmond this ultimately led up to money. He must be getting a pretty nice sum for this, and this could bring in more business once others heard about it.

"Thirty thousand. Half of it has already been put into the account." He was giddy like a kid at Christmas. I just didn't understand greed sometimes. It had the ability to turn grown men into blubbering fools. Point in case, Edmond.

"You are so bad, Edmond." I said.

"And well paid for it, too." He said. The man had no integrity, especially where money was involved. I shook my head and hung up. I sat down on Forge's sofa. I rested my head in my hands.

"What now?" Logan asked.

I looked up at him. "I have to go lay a corpse to rest before I go back to the mansion." I explained the situation with Benedict and his daughter to Forge and Logan. Forge allowed me take one of his shirts to make up for my ruined one. I cleaned up the best I could in his bathroom. I didn't have to look like a beauty queen to lay the dead to rest.

- - -

**Author's Notes:** Just a short chapter to get from point A to point B.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**17.**

"What were you thinkin' tryin' to take all of them?" Logan demanded. I couldn't even get in the car good before he was chiding me. I knew I hadn't done the smartest thing in the world, but what else was I supposed to do? It wasn't as if I could tell them to hold on one second while I called for my backup.

"Honestly, I wasn't thinking. I was reacting. They were hurting Jean-Paul because of me, because of what Vega did to me. I couldn't let them hurt him for something that wasn't his fault." I answered. A lot of good it did. They still killed him. Oh Goddess, _they killed him_, and I couldn't even save him. My eyes blurred, and I blinked back furious tears.

"You shoulda just let me come with you in the beginnin'." Logan grumbled.

"Logan, I am not a child. Please, don't treat me like one. I didn't leave the mansion with intentions of facing the master and two of her cohorts. This I promise you. It just happened. I'm glad that you were not with me, though. Things probably would've been a lot worse. She might have tried to kill you, too, and I don't know what I would've… Can we not talk about this?" I trailed off.

I didn't even want to think about the thought of Sakura getting her hands on Logan. I don't think even the gods themselves would have been able to save this place from my wrath.

"What happened to this man's daughter?" Logan asked, changing the subject. I appreciated that he wouldn't run the previous subject into the ground. There was no way to go back and change what I did. Even if we could, I would have made the same decision. I would have run to Sakura's lair like a knight with her trusty stead.

"She committed suicide. No one knew why at first. She didn't leave a note or anything, but it was later revealed that he abused her. The poor girl couldn't take it." I said, frowning. Every time I heard about Benedict a little bit of anger swelled in my heart. How could he do that to his own child? I'll never understand the need to abuse those you're supposed to love.

We were silent for the rest of the ride, left to our individual thoughts. When we arrived at the graveyard, I didn't see anyone. No Benedict. No animated daughter. Nothing. I walked to the gravesite. Nothing. Something wasn't right. I felt a lump forming in my throat. Something was wrong, very wrong.

"Shouldn't the bastard be here?" Logan asked, looking around the cemetery.

"Yes, we'll give him just a few more minutes." I whispered. I wanted desperately to believe that Benedict lost his nerve. I would ignore the bad chills I was starting to get up my spine. I was overreacting.

"Smells like a setup." Logan said. He always had an uncanny way of verbalizing what I didn't want spoken. He looked around again. I could tell he heard something. "I think we should leave."

We moved closer together. "You're probably right. I'll call Edmond and tell him Benedict was a no show." I said, trying to sound like maybe this wasn't what it looked like, but from the way, Logan was furrowing his eyebrows, something bad was about to happen. He clenched his fists tightly, and I felt the hair on my neck tingle. I turned and saw no one.

There was no covering save for a couple of trees and a maintenance shed. If someone decided to start shooting at me here, we would have no where to dive unless we made it to the shed. My car was a little further along the way, and we walked hurriedly toward it. We paused when we saw _it_ sitting on top of my car. I instinctively reached for the gun that wasn't there.

_It_ was a ghoul. They looked surprisingly human, save for the gray skin and claws. I heard Logan growling deep in his throat. "Take it easy, Logan." I said to him.

There were no ghouls in this cemetery. At least, I hadn't felt any. What was it doing here, then? Ghouls were easy to scare as well. They didn't attack healthy beings and were usually scared by threatening movements. I stepped toward the car, shaking my hands in a shooing motion. The damn thing looked at me as if I was out of my mind. So much for scaring it away.

Where there was one ghoul, there was bound to be more. Another two walked from behind one of the trees, joining their companion. "They're waiting for something." Logan said, his voice low and dangerous. We were having a standoff with damn ghouls.

"They're waiting for me," a voice said behind me. I turned so fast I nearly toppled over.

"Ken!" I yelled. The three ghouls that were with him flinched, but didn't run. Then, it all made sense. I don't know why I didn't realize it sooner. The gris-gris needed a sacrifice. He said they wouldn't be missed. "You? You're the one killing the vampires?"

"Correct as usual, Sherlock." He said, smugly. Why hadn't I realized this earlier? Not that I mind he killed Christie or any of the others, but it was so obvious.

"That's why you hit the zombie that witnessed the murders. You destroyed his mind to save yourself." I said. He wasn't as dumb as I thought he was. In fact, that was damn smart. "Did you send the shooter, too?"

"Yeah, that was me. I told him Sakura wanted you dead. Dumb as rocks, but I expected him to get the job done. Doesn't look like it worked out that way." He answered. "I didn't know you were a mutant. If I had, I would've found someone a little smarter."

"How are you using these ghouls? Why are they following you?" I asked.

"You know the belief that if you bury an animator in a cemetery, you attract ghouls?"

"I have heard it." But I didn't believe it. I mean, it just didn't add up to me. I'd much rather believe that ghouls just happened than animators were the reason for them. I didn't want to die knowing I was going to send one of those little buggers back to the world as my parting gift.

"When I escaped death, they came with me, and they were mine to control." He said, patting one of the ghouls head. How utterly saccharine in a disgusting way. They were one big, dysfunctional family.

"It makes no sense, though. There aren't enough animators in the world to take credit for all the ghouls running around." I said.

"You know. I'm glad you didn't die earlier. I've been wanting to toss this around with another animator, but there's that little problem with everyone thinking I'm dead. See, I've come to realize that the more zombies you raise, the more ghouls you attract. That means when you die, Ororo, you're looking at a whole hell of a lot of ghouls coming back."

So, I was going to send a lot of ghouls back to the world. What was I thinking? Okay, this was just weird. I was sitting here talking cumulative ghoul ratio with a murderer. There was something very wrong about that. I didn't get a chance to speak as Logan just exploded from nowhere. He was little more than a blur as he cleared the distance between us and Ken with a war cry that could've woke the rest of the dead in the cemetery.

I couldn't even open my mouth to tell him not to try it before I saw the claws surface and plunge into Ken's chest. Ken fell to his knees, holding his chest. "That hurt, but they say whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Ken said, standing with help from his ghouls. He was still clutching his chest, but he wasn't dying.

"Let's see if you'll be any stronger when I rip your head off." Logan threatened.

"So violent. Do you think everything is solved with violence?" Ken said, snapping his fingers. The three ghouls closed in, blocking Logan from Ken. Ken managed to slip behind a tree. Asshole. I saw more ghouls appearing. The three that guarded Ken grabbed Logan and threw him back toward me. Yes, actually threw him. But from the way, he popped back up rearing to go, I guess it didn't hurt too much.

"Logan, we can't fight them all like this. We'll need to regroup." I said to him before he could go running back toward them. I motioned toward the maintenance shed. "Walk slow. They'll close in, but don't run until we get close to the shed. They run fast, and they might catch us before then."

Logan and I backed slowly toward the maintenance shed, just as I thought they closed in on us, but didn't move any faster. It was like being stalked, eventually, we'd stop moving and they'd close in on us completely. I looked over my shoulder to see how close we were to the shed. "Now!" I said when we were close enough.

We made a mad dash for the shed, managing to get the door opened and closed before they could catch us. I held the door closed while Logan found something to put through the handles to act as a temporary lock. They were banging against the doors hard. The doors would be off the hinges soon. We pushed a riding lawnmower in front of the doors. That would give us a little extra time.

This wouldn't keep them very long so we had to think of something. I don't know if we'd be able to outright fight all those ghouls before they ripped us apart. If I could get us airborne, I could get us away, but they would follow us to the mansion. They would follow me wherever I went. They were quick enough to keep up on ground for the most part, and even if they weren't, if Ken was smart (which he was proving he was), wouldn't he send them to the mansion, anyway?

Maybe by calling me out here, he was trying to avoid the chaos that would ensue with the children. Maybe he didn't actually care that much about the children. There would be no witnesses here, though. Killing me in a graveyard would be a lot less messy.

I started searching around the room. I saw one window that sat too high for the ghouls to get in without help. They were dumb, anyway. They'd never figure it out. I found some tools. There was an old table with gasoline perched on it. "Do you have a cigar and matches?" I asked. Logan never went anywhere without at least one. I hope he hadn't broken tradition.

"Yeah," Logan produced a cigar from an inside jacket pocket. Good, old Logan. I might have to make him a permanent partner. I smiled at him and picked up a can of gas. I started pouring gas around the corners of the room while hell broke loose outside. They were getting even more frenzied out there.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked, concern edged into his voice.

"I'm about to burn this shed down." I answered.

"With us in it?" He asked, incredulously.

"I'm going to get us out. Besides, we'll need the fire. Ghouls are scared of it. It can destroy them." I explained.

"Okay, now about getting us out of here."

I found a three empty mason jars. The mouth was somewhat wide, but I might still be able to whip up a few cocktails. I didn't say anything as I took my jacket off, turned my back, and ripped off Forge's shirt. Logan made a sound akin to surprised. I wasn't about to throw myself at him while ghouls were trying to get in the shed. There would be another time for that. I threw the shirt over my shoulder.

"I need that ripped to shreds quick." I said, slipping my jacket back on and buttoning it up to the top button. He made quick work of the shirt while I poured gas into the mason jars. I stuck pieces of my newly shredded shirt into them. I pushed the table toward the window, stood on it, and used the handle of a rake to break the window out. A fist came plunging through the door while I struggled with the window. "Now would be a good time to light that thing."

"You're going to kill us." Logan said, lighting up.

I held out one of the jars and had Logan to light the shirt piece. I threw it out the window at one of the ghouls. A shriek pierced the night as the ghoul caught fire. It started rolling on the ground, catching another ghoul in the crossfire. Another fist came through the door. I motioned for Logan to join me on the table.

"I'm going to fly us to the roof. We're going to survey the scene before I make this place blow." I said. The door finally splintered and I saw a make ghoul making his way through the hole. I had to hurry. I slipped out the window first, balancing myself. Logan sent a Molotov after me, hitting another ghoul.

I held out my hand to Logan, summoning a stronger wind to bring him to me. He reached for me, as the ghoul grabbed his leg. Logan kicked back hard, disjointing the ghoul's jaw. The ghoul let go, squealing in pain. The pain wouldn't make him stop long, though. Logan grimaced as he sped toward me, catching my hand. He wasn't too fond of flying on my winds.

I guided us to the roof. "Did I mention you were fuckin' crazy, 'Ro?" He said with a smile when we were safely on the roof.

"That's what they tell me." I said, looking down at the ghouls. Thank Goddess there were no trees for them to climb close to the shed. I counted twelve, not counting the four that were already burning into a rubble of nothing. Who knew how many were in the shed by now. I didn't see Ken. He was probably long gone since he thought his ghouls would finish me.

The ghouls who saw me fly out were now, beating against the shed. The shed started shaking. It wouldn't be long before they brought it down. I snatched Logan up with me in a strong wind, praying that this worked. A storm of lightning encased the ghouls and the shed. I could hear their shrieks of terror as the tried to tear into the shed for cover. I took us higher away from it, sending down the final bolt straight to the shed. It blew.

I didn't expect the explosion to be that big. I nearly lost control, trying to dodge debris. I quickly got us to the ground and started running toward the car. We fell to the ground as a second explosion rocked the shed to nothing. I covered my head, hoping a flaming limb or something didn't pelt me. If that hadn't killed all of them, I don't know what would.

We stood again and raced to the car, as my pager beat against my hip. I sped out of the cemetery like all a crazy woman. I didn't look at my pager until I was sure Ken and his ghouls weren't following us. Robert had paged me. I stopped at a payphone and called him back. He set up the meeting with the rat king. I had an hour to meet him at an all night café.

Next, I called Bayman and told him that I knew who the murderer was. I even got a confession out of the bastard. Ken was going down. As much as I wanted to kill him myself, he was going down the legal way. I sat in the car trying to compose myself before meeting the rat king. Logan and I talked about it possibly being another trap. Logan said he would go in first. If he took a seat, it was safe. If he walked back out, we were going to haul ass.

We drove to the café. Logan got out just as planned and walked into the café. I could see him looking around, trying to sense the danger. I saw some of the patrons turn to look at him. I'd bet you anything those were the weres and that they could sense Logan's animalistic side. One nodded at him in greeting and Logan nodded back before taking a seat.

I piled my hair on top of my head with a rubber band I found before I exited the car. I needed that extra second to prepare myself for this. Besides, I already looked like walking death. I didn't want to look like walking death warmed over. I walked into the café, slowly, looking around. I saw a man in a corner booth motioning at me with his hand. I walked past Logan, feeling better that he was there. I slid into the booth across from the man.

His face was all angles, but they worked well with his short, dark hair and dark eyes. He was darkly attractive. He was the type of guy who was on the cover of those bodice rippers. You know, the one with the arrogant smile and the "lick-me-down" abs. He was the type of guy your mother warned you about. A handsome wererat, what was the world coming to? I know I'm being biased. There's nothing that says he can't be hot in his human form.

On his forearm, I saw a crown tattoo, and in the air, I could feel his suspicion crackle. I stared him straight in the eyes. He returned my unwavering gaze. "I received your message. What did you need to see me for?" he asked. Right down to business. I liked that.

"I need you to lead me and one other person through the tunnels under the Circus." I said.

"Why should I do that for you?" he asked.

"You're tired of Sakura's rule over you, right? Well, I'm going to take care of that little problem." I said. I was confident that I could do this. If I didn't, my rage was going to spin out of control.

He frowned, but I could tell from his eyes that things were pointing in my favor. "How do I know that I can trust you?"

"I have never hurt a lycan. I am not a bounty hunter. I teach at school for gifted children and raise the dead on the weekends. I believe in the golden rule, and it's about time I did unto that bitch as she has done unto me." I said, quietly.

"I see." He said, nodding in approval. "You understand that I cannot aid you, neither can the others. I can keep them from answering her call, if she should call, but that's it."

"I just need you to get me in there. I can handle the rest from there." I said firmly.

"I will get you in there." He promised.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me until after you've made it our alive." He said grimly. I knew he wasn't trying to wish me any bad luck. He was being realistic. I was talking about going up against the master of the city.

"Deal." I said, sticking out my hand. He shook it after looking at it for a moment.

"When do you want to go?" he asked.

"Tomorrow."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Tomorrow? You don't need more time?"

"There's no time left. Why?"

"I smell death on you. You have encountered it tonight."

Cue the Twilight Zone music. Robert never did the freak 'I smell death on you' thing. Then again, Robert worked very hard at being human. Apparently, the rat king wasn't ashamed of that sense. It was a little funny I was trusting him, and I didn't even know his name. Maybe that was for the best. "It has to be tomorrow."

"Very well. I will get in contact with you through Robert." I must have been wearing my horrified expression because he chuckled and added, "I'll only give him enough information to meet up with you. Then, I'll threaten to break his legs if he follows us. I know Robert can be incorrigible."

"You will never regret this because tomorrow I am going to kill Sakura."

- - -

**Author's Notes:** I'm going to be out of town for a few days, everyone. We're going to New Orleans for vacation in a few days, so I may get a chance to update before I leave. I may not. I may get a chance to write on the drive down there since my laptop is a permanent fixture in my life. I may not. I may get a chance to update while I'm down there. I may not. You get the point. I'm going to try to add the last part of this before we leave. No promises, though. I know I probably had a large amount of mistakes this chapter and last chapter. I'm going to fix those, soon, too.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**18.**

"Where were you and Logan all night?" Jean asked the next morning. I hadn't slept at all the night before, but I was refreshed. Logan and I decided that it was best if we didn't come back to the mansion until the sun came up. I sat on my car all night meditating, being one with nature, until the sun eased into the sky. Now, I was preparing for the fight of my life.

I could tell by Jean's voice she thought something more was going on, like maybe Logan and I got a hotel room and did things you don't mention in polite company. I wished. I didn't know what to tell her. If I said nothing, she would believe we were rendezvousing, and I couldn't think of suitable lie to tell her that would appease her question.

"What did he say?" I finally asked because I knew she asked him first. She didn't do it because she was sneaky or thought she could get more details out of him. If I went somewhere with Scott, she would grill me about it first. It was just a Jean thing. I couldn't explain it. You just had to know her.

"He said that the two of you were taking care of dangerous business in regard to the mutant boy we've been trying to find." She answered. I could tell she didn't believe a word of it. It wasn't entirely a lie. We were taking care of dangerous business, but the boy wasn't involved. Good try, though. I would have to remember to give Logan a pat on the back for thinking of that.

"We did." I said. I know I was just fueling the flame. I bet she was trying to read my mind right now, to catch some piece of what was possibly happening. I did every mental trick in the book to keep her from doing so.

"What's going on, Ororo?" she asked. She was worried; I could feel it emanating from her. I stopped what I was doing momentarily to look at her. Her brows were knitted in a tight frown.

When I told Jean that I wasn't going to be around for classes, she automatically started grilling me. As much as I wanted to tell her, I knew I couldn't until this was over, but even after this is over, I still may not tell her all the details. I think it's for the best that she never knows what happened with Triage. Somehow, though, I would find a way to show her what a treacherous, dangerous leech Carmen was.

"I can't really tell you, Jean." I looked away from her. I didn't want to see the look on her face. "It's complicated and dangerous, and if you really want to help me, keep the children safe. Just stay here and look after them."

That's all she could really do. I know she would do it anyway. That's our responsibility – to protect the children. I was lucky thus far that Sakura or Ken hadn't brought the fight to my doorstep. I was hoping things stayed that way. After today, I wouldn't have to worry about that problem anymore. I was either going to come home triumphant, or I wasn't going to come home at all. There were no other choices left.

She picked up a silver vial. I snatched it from her before she could do something stupid like accidentally inject the contents into her own system. I dropped it in a blue duffel bag resting on my bed. The content was silver nitrate. When I pushed the button on top, a needle extended from it. I stuck it in some bloodsucker's vein, and it automatically gave the vampire a lethal dose of silver nitrate.

Forge made them and brought it to the mansion, personally, earlier before I talked to the professor. He gave me enough that I could even use more on a vampire if I needed. Damn, that man was smart. He was going to make some woman lucky one day.

"What about your classes, Ororo?" Jean asked. Jean thought she was slick.

"I spoke with the professor. They have been cancelled for the day." I answered. That was true. I told the professor that I had pressing obligations. He said he understood and that his thoughts would be with me during my final fight. He knew the whole time. I should have known I couldn't keep anything from that man. I was relieved, though.

I pulled Jean into a hug suddenly. She hugged me back tightly. She knew that things weren't right, and I was grateful that she was a true friend. It occurred to me that I might die. I didn't plan on it, but I might. I didn't feel like I would be losing my life in vain either. I was going to succeed, even if it meant my own life.

Logan and I met up with the rat king a little after noon. There were five of them in all. All four of whom I recognized from the restaurant the night before. Two women. Two men. And the rat king. He handed Logan and me two hardhats with lights and instructed us to put them on, explaining the entrance we were using was a cave.

They led us to the entrance of the cave, and my heart instantly jumped in my heart. Yeah, I was scared because this was it, but at that moment, the prospect of the cave scared me more. Caves had a tendency to shrink when I didn't want them to. We followed the rat king into the gaping, dark mouth of the cave.

He instructed us to leave the lights off for a moment. I heard noises. Bones creaking, skin sliding, moans, the gnashing of teeth. They were changing and they didn't want us to see it. Despite all the scary sounds they were making, I wanted to watch their transformation, but I respected their wishes. After all the noises subsided, the rat king instructed us to turn on our lights.

I did quickly, thinking I might catch a glance of something. Instead, there were five furry people looking back at me, and they were modest. The men had on old shorts, and the women wore dresses that flowed like a grandmother's housedress. Logan and I exchanged glances. He was thinking the same thing I was. What the hell are we doing here with wererats?

"Ready?" the Rat King asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I answered. Logan nodded stiffly beside me.

We traveled silently through the cave. "Ain't caves supposed to be wet?" Logan asked.

I think he asked more because of my rising trepidation that his actual curiosity. Talking would distract me for a moment. "It's a dead cave," I said quietly, trying to figure out whether the walls really were closing on me or if I was hallucinating. It had been on of those weeks after all.

"Huh?"

"Unlike a live cave, a dead cave has no water or growing formations." One of the rat women said. She was carrying a bag of medical supplies. I'm glad that someone was looking out.

"How long is it going to take us to get out of here?" I asked, hoping he said that we were right around the corner from wherever we were going. No such luck.

"A few hours," the rat king said, and I wanted to die.

For most of the tunneling, the walls didn't close in on me, but as we neared the end of the cave, I nearly passed out when the walls of the cave started forcing me into a stoop. My knees quaked, and I stumbled into Logan. He caught me, trying to steady me. My vision blurred, causing me to see double of everything. My head spun out of control, and I started breathing deeply.

"I got you, 'Ro," Logan said, as I burrowed my face into his shoulder. The continued to close, forcing us into a crawl, and things didn't get any better for me.

Logan and the rat king somehow managed to get my through it. The rats' bodies were made for tunneling. They were able to mold to the changes easily, and I don't think I was a much of a burden for the rat king. Well, not as much as I could have been. I have been known to start screaming and panicking. I even forgot about the rat king being a rat while I buried my face deep into his fur.

The cave rumbled ominously while the rat king and Logan took turns consoling me, reminding me why I was here. I thought about Jean, the kids, Vega, anything. I had to make it through for them. I couldn't afford to lose it now. The cave continued to rumble, though. Topside they were having some pretty nasty weather courtesy of me.

The horror finally ended as I felt myself pulled into open space. If things had been different, I would have ripped off my clothes and did a dance that would have put Josephine Baker's tribal dance from Princesse Tam Tam to shame. I tried to control my shaking. That was the worst part for me. I survived the tunneling. I could survive the vampires. Vampires had nothing on claustrophobia.

I looked around my surroundings. We were in the dungeons where I first encountered the wererats. "Thank you," I said, my shakes starting to subside.

"Don't thank us, yet." The rat king said with a somber tone, handing me my bags. I looked at Logan, as one of the male rats handed him a shotgun. His face was impassive, his game face. I checked myself, making sure I hadn't dropped any of my own guns in my scared state. Three guns. A knife in each boot. And lock picks in my pocket. I'd say I was set.

We ran up the stairs of the dungeon into the main hall. It was still daylight and the vampires would still be resting. The only thing I had to worry about was Ryu—and possibly other human slaves—catching us. Though, I couldn't see Ryu stopping us. You never could tell with people, especially where vampires were concerned.

We walked into the room where they tortured Jean-Paul first. It was immaculate. The horror of last night cleaned from everything, but I could still mentally see it all. Jean-Paul's death. Sakura biting me. It was all very vivid in my mind.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked.

"They killed Jean-Paul in this room, and there was nothing I could do to save him." I answered. My words were rough against my own tongue.

"C'mon, Ro. Don't let those demons haunt you. We gotta stay focused." He said.

He was right. It wouldn't do me any good to lose sight and be killed in the process. I paused outside the door leading to her "throne room". I was scared we might see Ryu or some other human. I really hated to think about having to kill anybody other than a vampire, but I was going to do whatever I had to do to get rid of the vampires – including kill humans who stood in my way.

The room was empty when we opened the door. It was sort of anticlimactic, even. Logan looked at me with a look that said, "Is this it?" I just shrugged at him and motioned toward another door. We walked toward it quietly, expecting someone to pop out of it at any moment We opened the door and found coffins. "Oh goody," I said dryly.

"I thought these assholes liked to hide their coffins." Logan asked.

"You're over a thousand-years-old, the strongest vampire in the city. Would you hide your coffin? Would you make your entourage hide their coffins?" I asked. Sakura was a self-assured bitch with reason to be.

"I don't know, and I ain't lookin' to find out."

"Well, what are we waiting for let's stake us some vampires!" I said with a chuckle, trying to be humorous. Yeah, I was nervous. Something bad was bound to happen soon. We were just making too much progress.

The first coffin was slate gray with silver handles. As a general rule, once vampires were resting they didn't wake until the sun was down. There were always exceptions to the rule. I asked the Goddesses to protect me as I jerked the coffin open. At first the facial features of the vampire was so mangled, I didn't realize who he was. Then, I pieced together what I could. Triage.

"Damn, 'Ro. You coulda at least put the poor bastard out of his misery." Logan said, peering into the coffin.

"I tried to, Logan. Believe me." I said, thinking back to my assault on Triage.

It was like being at a wake with the way we looked down at him. I felt like we should be clucking over his body, saying what a shame it was he was dead. He never moved, though, and I pulled two vials out of the bag. This was going to do my soul good. I pushed the top of the vials and needles popped from the other end. I stuck them deep in Triage's neck, almost savagely.

He was trying to wake up. I could tell, and he might have succeeded if he didn't have so much silver running through him. He fought against the metal in his blood violently, his coffin shaking and rattling. Then, he was still. I almost cried in relief. He was dead. Jean was safe – from him, at least. "One down." I said, moving to the next coffin.

"I'll take care of this one," he said, motioning for me to check the other coffins. I walked to another coffin. It was white with gold trim, very feminine. The bitch's coffin. I nearly ripped the top off, but it was empty. The silk was molded to fit a female. I looked around the room terrified. Then I looked up. She wasn't floating up there, either. _Shit. Fuck. Hell._ I cursed silently. Where was she?

Another thought occurred to me, calming me slightly. The curves of the silk were too womanly to be Sakura's. It was Christie's coffin. Fortunately for Christie, she was already dead. "Good riddance," I said, slamming the lid close.

"Shit!" I heard Logan say, and I turned quickly to see Valiant gripping Logan by the neck. Valiant had his head tilted like a puppy, regarding Logan with interest. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen. I reached for my guns, planning to unload everything I had into Valiant's head. Logan's claws emerged and he stuck them into Valiant's neck.

Valiant stiffened, but didn't let Logan go. Logan brought his fists back, his claws covered with blood. Then, he buried them into Valiant's neck again. I quickly picked up the shotgun. "Incoming," I said to Logan. He retracted his claws.

I fired from a few feet away. Valiant's head exploded. It was pretty gross, but he was still holding onto Logan somehow. Logan was hacking away at his hands, and I cocked the gun, moving to a better angle, aiming for Valiant's heart, blowing out his whole chest. That was even grosser. Logan fell to the floor as Valiant's body fell backward.

I kept firing at Valiant's coffin. Wood splintered. Blood sprayed. Just call me Tony Montana. I promised to stop making corny jokes, didn't I? I can't help it. That one was for my kids. There was one last coffin in the room. It was smaller than the others were; light pink with roses engraved in the golden handles. I don't think I was going to find Vega in that coffin. Not unless he shrank since the last time I saw him and was hiding something from me with the pink coffin.

There were more engravings in the lid of angels and saints, reminding me that Sakura had parents that loved her at one time, who thought that she was an angel. If they could only see their daughter now. Logan and I approached it together. If she was in it and she couldn't wake up like Valiant, she could still hold our minds captive until she could move. She was powerful enough to do it.

The lid was surprisingly heavy for such a dainty coffin. It took Logan's strength to open it while I covered him with the shotgun. It was empty, and I backed away from it. "Looking for me?" the too sweet voice asked behind me. Logan and I turned around slowly. Ryu and Sakura were standing near Valiant's destroyed coffin. Ryu had a sheathed sword hanging from his back. Oh goddess, that was not a good sign.

"This is the master?" Logan asked. "She's two feet tall. Hey, darlin', your momma know you causin' so much trouble?" Oh great. Logan was going to piss the master off now top everything. I elbowed him hard in the ribs. That probably hurt me more than it hurt him. I just didn't want him to say anything else that might get us in trouble.

She laughed her little tinkling laugh while I inched my hand toward my gun. "Don't do it, mortal." A pain seared through my head and I withdrew my hand. She continued to laugh. Ken walked through the door next. He glared at me, and I glared right back at him. His little pets hadn't been able to get the job done, and I was sure that angered him.

"I advise you to drop all your weapons." Sakura continued. I began to put my guns on the floor, but kept the knives. Had to have a one up on her. "Did you think something as insignificant as sunlight was my captor? One thousand years I have roamed this earth. I am nothing short of a goddess. On your knees."

I began to sink to my knees, tugging Logan along with me. I could tell from his stance that he wasn't going to do it. He hadn't had to deal with this monster as I had. He didn't know what she was capable of. Ken collected my weapons, and it took everything I had not to try to strangle him. He smirked at me. Did he forget I knew he was the vampire killer?

I was definitely going to tell Sakura he was her killer. I was just biding my time. Ken held my guns comfortably between his hands, pointing them at Logan and me. So stupid. So very stupid. The first inklings of anger were beginning to flare up. "I have a few surprises for you, animator." Sakura said. I watched as human slaves brought two more people in the room. The kid was one of the two. And the other…

"Jean-Paul!" I jumped to my feet only to have Ken backhand me back to the floor. Logan roared, but before he could explode, I saw him grab his head in pain. She was picking his mind, holding him under control. That wouldn't hold him for long. Soon he would lose his humanity, and he would be a raging animal.

Jean-Paul looked horrible. His body was covered in bloody slashes, his eyes glazed. He was barely coherent, but he was alive. "It was the most interesting thing," Sakura said, pacing the floor. "You know this child has been following you. I think he finds you fascinating, mortal. He followed you here last night, in fact."

"If you've hurt him–"

"Oh, I haven't hurt him. Isn't that right, child?" Sakura asked. The boy nodded slowly. "Ryu took care of him. Fed him, cleaned him up. He's quite a charming child. I think he'll make the perfect protégé for me."

The boy looked at me in wide-eyed terror, and I return his glance with terror of my own. "How is Jean-Paul able to move around?" I asked, changing the subject. Jean-Paul was a very young vampire. He technically should be in a state of lethargy right now.

"Mortal, you disappoint me at times. I'm using my own power to keep him up. It's not as hard as you think. After last night, I figured I should keep Jean-Paul around. I'll make Vega watch Jean-Paul die at the hands of the child. Once I turn the child that is." Sakura patted the boy on the head as if he were a pet.

My anger was starting to boil in my veins. "You disgust me," I hissed at her. I wasn't trying to hold it back anymore. I embraced it, encouraged it. I wanted to be one with the anger.

"Fool! You dare to speak to me like that. I can make you do whatever I want. Come to me, Ororo. Feel my power!" I felt her words wash over my skin, and I waited for my legs to start moving on their own. Nothing happened. "I bit you."

She sounded a little astonished, and I looked at her, a smile covering my face for the first time. "Holy water. Burns like a bitch, but it gets the job done, even on me."

She glared at me. Her eyes as hard as stone, but she didn't attack me. She was holding back for some reason. "Let us go to the dungeons and play a little game, shall we?" she said. She made a human keep Jean-Paul in the coffin room. He wouldn't be much of a fight for the human. He was too weak. Logan and I stood and we flocked to the dungeon like a misfit crew.

"Kneel, mortal." She said to Logan once we were in the dungeon.

"Fuck you." Logan growled. She kicked in the groove behind his knee. He fell to one knee, but he didn't make a sound otherwise. "You're gonna have to hit me with somethin' harder than that."

I pleaded with Logan with my eyes. _Please, don't be stupid._ I said silently. He frowned at me. He wanted to kick some ass, but we were dealing with an entirely new breed of evil here. Sakura grabbed him around the neck. "I wonder how your metal will fare against my hand, mortal. Keep testing me, and we will find out."

Logan snarled at her. "Please, Logan." I said aloud. I shook my head at him. I know he was anxious to do something, anything, but he needed to think this through a little more. He shut his mouth, but didn't kneel any more than he already had.

"Ryu," Sakura said. "Show this mortal what a real fighter is." Ryu looked at me somberly as he took the sword sheath from his back. He unsheathed the sword. He did it slowly like they did in all those fighting movies. This was deadly real, though. "You will fight him or I will kill this one. And you'd better not use your powers."

She sounded like a spoiled brat, but that's what she basically was. She wrenched Logan's arm behind his back, and he didn't even protest. His face was perfectly stoic. She would never get a sound out of him. I knew she had to be pissed with Logan. He had already defied her in so many ways, and she hadn't even punished him half as much as she did me. I looked at Ryu again, taking off my jacket.

Is this what he meant when he told me not to hesitate? Was this what he was preparing me for? I pulled my knives from my boots. Ryu didn't look surprised. In fact, nobody seemed surprised. Damn. Was I getting that predictable? Oh well, there was no way I was about to give them up, predictable or not.

"You'll never be able to defeat, Ryu. In fact, he's only going to cut you a little. I want you alive. I'm going to turn you, too. Then, when you're one of us, maybe you'll take your investigation more serious. And Vega will see that he has no power over me." She revealed. She did not just say she was going to turn me. What did I look like? Christie's replacement?

"I'd rather be dead than one of you." I spat at her.

"You don't have much a choice in the matter." She said happily. Being a vampire was my worst nightmare. I know many people found it alluring, but I did not want to live forever. Drinking blood didn't appeal to me, and I liked the sunlight very much. I'd rather be in my grave rotting tomorrow than spend eternity as a vampire.

Ryu began to circle me. I faced him at all times. I knew he was going to try to give me as much of a fair chance as he could without being overly obvious, but that meant I had to play smart as well. I crouched, holding my knives in my hands. He was still human. A human with hundreds of years worth of experience, but a still just a human.

Ryu came at me with a complicated stream of sword movements. I scrambled away from him. He kicked me hard in the stomach. I backed up, but did not fall. He swiped my midsection with the sword, and I gasped as blood formed. He followed up with a fierce uppercut that sent me sprawling. I bumped into a hard, wooden pillar. Winded, but still able to function. He ran at me, jumping in the air, bringing his foot out for a roundhouse. I shifted as his foot cut down the wooden pillar. Splinters flew from the impact. That didn't hurt?

He landed deftly, swinging the sword around, going for the kill I guess. I bent backwards as the metal sliced the air over my face. At the same time, Ryu swept my legs, and I fell hard on my back. He brought the blade down, and I rolled out the way as the tip hit the ground. I wrapped my legs around his, bringing him down hard. The sword slid from his hand. I picked up the closest knife, rolling forward, bringing the knife down. I scraped his arm. One to one.

We both rolled away from each other, standing to our feet. I only had one knife, but I had the advantage since he had nothing. I ran at him, latching one arm around his neck. I swung myself on his shoulders.

As far as fighting went, I was more of a scrapper than anything. I fought wild, a habit from my days on the streets. I wasn't orthodox by any means, and I wasn't trained in any kind of martial arts. In fact, Logan had just started teaching me basic martial art moves in our spare time. So… where the hell did I learn to do that? I didn't get much time to ponder that as Ryu started trying to shake me from his shoulders.

I should have taken that time to stab him or something, but I couldn't make myself stab Ryu. He was essentially good. He just got a bitch for a master. Part of me wanted to, but a bigger part of me didn't. I know he told me not to hesitate, but I was the good guy. I always hesitated. Something made me pull my arm back, and something made me attempt to cut Ryu's throat. I wasn't too successful.

Ryu grabbed my arms, pulling me toward him as he snapped his head back. He hit me in that hollow between my ribs, and dammit, it hurt like hell. He did it again, and I let go of the knife. He did it yet again and let go my arms. I lost my balance and started to fall backwards, but Ryu's arm snaked around me and he swung me around his body. It was sort of like swing dancing. I felt like I should be saying 'whee' or something. Then, he let go of me, and I was flying through the air.

Before I could land face first on the concrete, I felt my body adjusting to the momentum of the throw. My arms shot straight out, pushing hard off the concrete, as if I were about to do a cartwheel, but I rounded off the move, bending backwards as something went whizzing over my head. My other knife! My legs pushed off the concrete, and I flipped over one last time. Okay, I definitely didn't know how to do that – not without the aid of my winds.

"Oh, you've been holding back on me, mortal." Sakura said with a laugh. Like hell I have. I didn't know how I was doing any of that stuff. It didn't feel natural, but at the same time, it sort of did. "Stop fooling around with her, Ryu. Make her hurt."

Ryu ran toward me, and I ran away from him, straight to a wall. I tried to skitter to a stop, but something pushed me forward. I planted my left foot against the wall, leaning back, pushing off with my right foot. Goddess, I was going to break my neck. I tucked, feeling myself flip. I loosened my limbs, bringing an elbow down hard in Ryu's chest.

We fell backwards, and I rolled over his body, hooking my legs around his neck. He rolled me on my stomach with my legs still hooked around his neck, flipping himself over my body. He planted his feet firmly, holding me tightly in the submission move. Believe me I wanted to submit. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I felt like my back was going to break.

I knew he wasn't going to kill me, but it felt like it. "I know who the killer is." I shouted suddenly. I needed that ace right now.

"And you've kept it from me all this time? Who, mortal! Tell me or I will kill this one!" Sakura shouted at me.

"No!" Ken said.

The next few moments after that was pure chaos. Sakura let go of Logan who was on his feet in an instant. The kid sucker punched the large human holding him, running for something. The human started after the boy, but Logan got in his way, making quick work of the man. Ken was screaming like a lunatic for no good reason.

"No!" Ken screamed again, bullets started spraying out in the room. Ryu let go of me and covered my body with his own. He kicked my ass and then he covered me from stray bullets. Chivalry isn't dead. Sakura knocked the guns from Ken's hands. She figured it out herself then, as she brought Ken's head down to her. He screamed.

Ryu moved away from me, unaware of the boy running toward him with murder in his eyes. I couldn't even warn him as the boy jumped on his back wasting no time in plunging the knife in his neck. The boy brought up a glowing hand, but was unable to make contact with the knife before Ryu slammed backed up with uncanny speed, slamming the boy into the wall.

The boy slid down the wall. "_Mon Dieu_," I heard him mutter, holding his head. I went to the boy, hoping he wasn't seriously injured. Ryu was staggering toward the sword. He picked it up, turning back to the boy and me.

"Ryu!" Sakura cried out, hurrying toward us. Shots rang out. Logan was firing at the bitch. She turned on him suddenly, moving faster than I thought possible. He backed away from her, but his back kissed the wall. She grabbed Logan and he struggled against her. They were struggling. I knew Logan was strong, but Goddess, he was brawling with a thousand-year-old corpse.

"She's getting weaker, as I grow weaker." Ryu said, proffering me the sword. I looked from the sword back to the Logan and Sakura. She pinned Logan to the floor using brute strength and lowered her head. Logan's body stopped moving. She was biting him. She looked up for a moment, wiping her bloody lips in my direction. Then she turned to Logan again. I shook my head as every nerve ending in my body ignited with rage.

"Ororo, listen to me. Kill me. It's the only chance you'll have to stop her! Kill me." Ryu said, his voice becoming more urgent. I jerked the sword from Ryu's hand. He kneeled before me like the sacrificial lamb. "Thank you, Ororo."

I pulled the sword back, lunging it deep in his chest. He reached for my hands shakily, gripping them tightly, forcing me to push the sword in to the hilt. I pulled the sword out and he fell to the floor. Tears brimmed my eyes as Sakura let out a yell that echoed through me. I looked away from Ryu's limp body and faced Sakura. She was on her knees, ripping at her hair angrily. "Come get it, you little bitch." I said, gripping the sword in my hand.

I was fury – pure, unadulterated rage. She stood from her knees, walking toward me slowly. Lightning crackled from my fingertips, flowing from my fingers to the sword. I stood completely still. I was not afraid of her anymore. She tried to exert her power, mental fingers gripped at my mind. "No!" I yelled. My voice was thunder. The fingers receded at my command.

She would never use my mind to hurt me again. I still wasn't sure how this human servant thing worked, but she was definitely weaker while I felt stronger than ever. She tried to conjure up a strong wind, but I turned her fury against her, pushing her back slightly. "The elements are mine to command, vampire," I spat at her, as she dodged stray objects that were flying toward her. I quelled her windstorm to prove my point. With a flick of my wrist, it died. I was all-powerful.

She ran at me, claws outstretched, and I jerked the sword back. I brought the sword down. It bit into her neck until it hit bone. I pulled back, pushing her back with a foot to the stomach. I brought the sword up again, burying it deep in her chest. I pushed it deeper, running with it, driving her back against the wall. Blood poured from her wounds. I pulled the sword out of her chest and she fell.

She rolled to her hands and knees, trying to stand. I put a foot in the middle of her back, forcing her back down. "Now, you die. This won't hurt a bit. Be grateful." I informed her bringing the sword down on the back of her neck, giving it every shred of energy I had left. It severed her head from her body completely, and she stopped moving.

I did it. I dropped the sword, allowing the tears to come freely for the first time. I checked on Logan and the boy. Logan was starting to come around and the boy—Remy, he finally told me—was okay for the most part. Maybe a little concussed. I think he was just shaken up more than anything. Ken was starting to stir, too. The rip in his neck started to mend itself together as if he had a healing ability like Logan.

The wererats filed into the room. There were more of them now. The female wererat started tending to Remy and Logan while I checked on Ken. I sat beside Ken, and he looked at me fearfully. I pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and he tried to scuttle away from me. He was the real rat in this room. "You had to give the gris-gris vampire blood. That means that there is something you must never give the gris-gris." I stated, touching my hand to the cut on my stomach.

"Don't," he said, trying to back away. I grabbed his arm in a death vise.

"If you had to give it vampire blood, I wonder how it will react to human blood." I said calmly. He tried to fight me, but I touched my fingers to the gris-gris. He made a noise as if someone were choking him. He fought whatever unseen force violently, and then he was still. I checked his pulse. There was none.

The female wererat walked over to me and checked my cuts and scrapes. The female wererat dressed my stomach wound. "You may need stitches for that," she said softly. I thanked her and stood to my feet.

I made my way up the stairs of the dungeon. "Where are you going?" the rat king asked me.

"To get my other weapons." I know that was lame, but I didn't want to say I was going to look for Vega. People might get the wrong idea. I would act as if I just happened to stumble on his coffin and let him out. The rat king followed me up the stairs. I didn't mind. Jean-Paul was still in the room where the main coffins were, but the human was not.

Jean-Paul was… livelier, though. Still weak, but he was definitely better. "What happened to the person who was watching you?" I asked him. I picked up the shotgun and the duffel bag with the silver nitrate.

"He had a little accident." Jean-Paul said, wiping a drop of blood from the corner of his lips. That was a good enough answer for me. Who was I to pry after all? He pointed toward a door leading somewhere. "The others are in there."

I nodded and walked into the room. There were at least a dozen coffins neatly lined up in the room. The lids were chained silver chains and a blessed cross attached to every lid. Mortimer was in the first coffin I opened. He was still sleep and deeply so. I fondled a vial of silver. Then, I thought better of it. I'd let the poor guy rest. I would probably regret that decision later.

The other coffins were empty, except the last one. I placed my things on the floor before opening it. I removed the cross from the coffin and opened it. Vega was staring up at me, green eyes burning my soul, a smile playing on his face. He sat up, stretching his arms, as if he just woke from a long nap. That's basically what it was, though. I couldn't help throwing my arms around him. He really was okay. I know Sakura said he was, but I'm glad I could see for myself.

"I am fine, _mi belleza_." He returned the hug, nuzzling the side of my face with his own. My heart started pounding hard in my chest. Then, I pulled back from him abruptly, suddenly angry with him. __I slapped him hard against the face, just as Logan and Remy entered the room.

"Undo whatever it is you did to me, _right now_, you conniving bastard." I balled my fist up.

"I can't."

"You can, and I want it undone."

"I _cannot_. What's done is done."

Logan was holding the shotgun I put on the floor before opening Vega's coffin. I snatched the shotgun from Logan and put it to Vega's head. "Undo it, or I am going to kill you."

"And what will happen to you?"

He was messing with my mind now. Good one. Plant a seed of doubt in the good guy's head. Remember, the good guy always hesitates. "I don't know, but if it means that I die with you, that's a risk I am willing to take." I spat. I didn't mean that. I didn't want to die with him.

"Don't do it, Ro. We'll find a way to get you out of this." Logan said in cajoling tones.

"You should listen to your friend, Ororo. He is very wise." Vega laughed.

"Shut up!" I yelled at him. My finger was itching to squeeze the trigger, so why was I hesitating? Oh right, I didn't know what was going to happen to me. For all that big talk I did, I really didn't want to die or anything.

"He ain't worth it, 'Ro." Logan said, putting his hand on the barrel of the gun, pushing it down.

"You're right, but…" I hit Vega in the stomach with the butt of the shotgun as hard as I could. He caught his midsection and groaned. Logan didn't say I couldn't hit him.

"That hurt, Ororo." He said. It couldn't hurt as bad as what I wanted to do to him. Logan took the gun from me before I could do something I'd regret.

I put my face close to his and hissed, "Listen to me good, Vega. I am going to use the power you gave me, your own power, against you until I can find my way out of this." I noticed how the dim lights seem to make his hair and eyes glow beautifully. My breath caught in my throat for a second. "And stop with the beauty tricks, okay?"

"I am not doing anything." He sort of smirked after this, and I didn't like it. Something was going on, and I had no control over it – whatever it was.

"What kind of game are you playing at?" I growled at him. "Who do you think you are?"

A radiant smiled covered his face. "I am the new master of the city. That's who I am." He rubbed the side of my face softly, and I brought a fist up, connecting with his jaw. Blood seeped out the corner of his mouth and a tongue darted out retrieving the precious blood.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I tried to calm myself. I should just blow his goddamn face in and damn the consequences. I didn't, though. I grabbed Logan's hand in one hand and Remy's hand in the other. "Let's go home." I said, walking away from him.

"We have a lot to discuss about your duties as a human servant. Over dinner, perhaps?" Vega called behind me.

It took everything I had not to turn around, take that gun from Logan again, and put one right through his skull. "Leave me alone, Vega, and stay the hell out of my dreams." I called over my shoulder.

"So, does this mean you are not going to have dinner with me? I didn't just want to talk about your status as my human servant. I wanted to thank you for making me the master of this city, too." Vega said behind me.

Goddess, he was a real bastard. I felt used. He could use me to eat. He used me to become the master of the city. I didn't think I was going to make it out of here before I tried to kill him. I paused, letting go of the hands I clutched. I turned toward Vega, anger fueling me. He looked smug. I was going to… Logan grabbed my arm before I could attempt to beat Vega's skull in.

"She'll be too busy celebratin' with me." Logan said, spinning me around, reeling me into a kiss that made my knees weak. Wow. I hadn't had a lot of time to lust after him lately, even with him helping me, even with the kiss we shared at the party, but rest assured, I would be doing some serious lusting after this.

I could feel Vega's anger. He didn't like that. Too bad.

"I will wait for you."

He just had to have the last word, didn't he?

- - -

I nearly growled when another box was delivered with my name on it. Didn't Vega ever give up? It was always interesting to see what he thought he could woo me with this time. I guess he didn't get that material things were not the way to my heart, but if he wanted to go bankrupt trying to get me to talk to him, who was I to complain?

It had been a month already. Jean-Paul was healing nicely. He didn't strip anymore, but he did work the bar at Vermillion Nights. I wouldn't go there at night to see him, though. I didn't want to see Vega. So, Jean-Paul and I would meet up afterwards, or whenever we had free time, and talk. I even let him talk me into going out to a club. You should've seen the look on Jean's face after that one. He was an okay person as far as vampires went. I put him right up there with Phil.

Jean was safe, of course, and flittering around the mansion with all her wedding plans. She was still friends with that bitch Carmen. I didn't attack her, though, as I initially wanted, but I did let her know that if she ever got Jean and me in a bind like that again, I would rip her throat out with my bare hands and carve her chest open like a turkey dinner. I was feeling particularly violent that day.

Remy was adjusting well to the school much to Bobby's chagrin. Remy has a soft spot for Rogue, and she seemed to be somewhat torn between the two. Remy still had a bad habit of following me, as well. No matter how many times I chided him, he followed me to graveyards, my room, the police station, my greenhouse, the courthouse, everywhere. He wouldn't open up to many people, but he talked to me. Maybe because we shared similar backgrounds. Maybe we were bound eternally like siblings by everything that happened with Sakura.

Logan and I… I don't know where we stood really. You'd think things would be a little clearer after that kiss in front of Vega. It wasn't, though. In fact, it was more confusing and awkward because neither of us was really sure where to go from here. I think he felt a little threatened by Vega. It couldn't be comforting to know that Vega could invade my dreams at anytime (which thankfully he hadn't). Things were just odd between us at the moment. I was hoping to do something about that soon.

I turned my attention back to the box. I ripped the pretty packing away from it. I probably wouldn't keep whatever was in there, but opening the packages was always fun. Sometimes Jean and I would sit at the table and try to guess what he sent this time. She still didn't remember that night at the club, but she remembered Vega. She was foggy on the details where he was concerned, but I knew she liked the idea of him wooing me. If only she knew…

I raised my eyebrow when I found dual Desert Eagles in the box. I gripped one in each hand and studied them. They were gold with a wood grain grip and my name engraved in the side – _Ororo Munroe_. I disregarded the note with them. It probably said the same thing as the others I ignored. I usually just ended up writing the word "No" on them and having Jean-Paul give them back to him.

I wasn't having dinner with him. I was not visiting him. I did not want to talk about the "terms" of being his servant. Couldn't he get the point? I did not want to be his damn human servant, so there was nothing for us to discuss. However, I may keep the guns. They might come in handy. I fingered the guns and admired the craftsmanship used to make them. I'll send him a thank you note… maybe…

- - -

**Author's Notes:** And finally I am done. Yay! Look out for the next part "Suckers" starting November 1st. I'm going to work on it while I work on my NaNoWrimo story. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews, thoughts, and emails. I appreciate every single one of them, and I'm glad that you were entertained by it. You all were the ultimate inspiration for this story.


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